
Class __X^_crZ_S_ 
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A MEMORIAL SKETCH 



LIEUT. EDGAR M. NEWCOMB, 



OF THE 



NINETEENTH MASS. VOLS. 



Edited by Dr. A. B. Weymouth. 



Printed for Private Distribution. 



MALDEN: 

ALVIN G. BROWN, STEAM BOOK AND JOB PRINTER. 
1883. 



o ■ 



£5^'rz 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 



" Tlicy arose, all the valiant men."— I CnRON. x, 12. 

Moke than twenty years have passed away since the heroic 
dead of Tredericksburg entered into rest. Why record the story 
of their sufferings? Or, if the "oft-repeated tale" must be again 
recited, why distinguish between the loyal men who fell at Fredericks- 
burg, and equally-devoted patriots who met the last enemy on other 
fields ? To these questions the only possible answer i.s that this 
biographical record was undertaken as a labor of love, in tribute 
to the memory of an intimate friend. The long-deferred personal 
sketch in the following pages is not intended for the perusal of the 
public, and need not occupy the attention of readers who have no 
interest in the scenes narrated. The sad stoiy of Fredericksburg is, 
in many respects, peculiar, and perhaps no other conflict during the 
rebellion rests under the shadow of so dark a cloud. Its silver lining 
is so narrow as to be almost imperceptible to finite vision. 

The world has never seen better soldiers than those composing 
the Army of the Potomac. Brilliant genius, metal culture, sublime 
patriotism, dauntless courage, and inflexible purpose were in many 
instances conspicuous in the ranks, as well as among the com- 
missioned officers. The best young men of the nation were found 
in the ranks of blue. The character of our noble defenders will 
be more correctly appreciated after a study of individual reminis- 
cences. Very imperfectly and briefly, the life-work of a gallant 
young soldier will be narrated. Scattered memorial gems have been 
collected from various sources, with the hope that their intrinsic 



beauty may secure tlieir preservation. No effort has been made 
to increase their natural lustre. Khetorical ornament has been in- 
tentionally avoided. Indispensable assistance has been rendered by 
relatives of our hero, and also by several of his compaiiious-in-arms. 
Special acknowledgement of favors received is due to Colonel John 
C. Chadwick, Major H. G. O. Weymouth, Captain Stephen I. New- 
man, Captain William A. Hill, Captain J. G. B. Adams, John L. 
Robinson, formerly clerk at head-quarters, 19th Regiment, George H. 
Patch, Past Commander Mass. Dept., G. A. R., and Charles A. 
Newhall, secretary of the 19th Regiment Association. Indulgence is 
craved for all defects and errors. 

CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL DAYS. 

" Witb US his name shall live, 
Through long succeeding years, 
Embaluieil, with all our hearts can give— 
Our praises and our tears." 



A MEMORIAL SKETCH 

(IF 

LIEUT. EDGAR M. NEWCOMB, 

OF THE NINETEENTH MASS. VOLS. 



Edgar Marshall Newcomh, eldest son of Jolin Jay and 
ISIary Starl)uck (^Nlarsliall) Newcon.b, was born in the city of 
Troy N. Y., on October '2, 1840. From the excellent geneology 
published by the lion. J..hn B. Newcomb, of Elgin, 111., it appears 
that the family was in ])..ssession of ancestral seats at Saltlieetby, 
Lincolnshire, Eng., 700 years ago. Eatin records in the parish 
church connnence in 1558. Captain Andrew Newcomb emigrated 
from the west of England to this country with some of the early 
colonists. He was in Boston in 1603, and three years later im- 
ported horses and other animals. In 1G79 he was "master of ye 
sloope Edmund & :^[artha," at the port of New York, bound for 
Boston. He probably saile.l from Virginia, as a portion of his 
earcvo was tobacco.* His house was in Boston, near the "mill 
bridoe." On January 31, 1682, he executed a will, making his 
crrandchild, Newcomb Blake, executor. Tntil the grandchild 
should become of age, Samuel Marshall of Boston was appointed 
executor in trust. For his seryices in taking care of the estate, 
Mr. Marshall receiyed a small legacy. Thus we notice friendly 
relations existing between the Newcomb and Marshall families 
more than two hundred years ago. 

Lieut. Andrew Newcomb, son of the Captain, was at the 
Isles of Shoals in 1666. He remoyed to Martha's Vineyard in 
1675, and became one of the proprietors of Edgartown. He held 



6 

the office of constable and other positions of trust ; was commis- 
sioned Lieutenant on April 13, 1691, and in the same year became 
commander of the fortification which defended the harbor. The 
name given to the settlement, and the rank of the highest military 
officer, remind us of his descendant, whose history is recorded in 
the following pages, 

Simon Newcomb, a son of the Lieutenant, removed to Edgar- 
town Avith his father, and subsequently to Lebanon, Conn., where 
he died in January, 1744. He was an excellent man and owned 
considerable property. Thomas Newcomb, son of Simon, was 
born at Edgartown in 1691, and carried on an extensive mercan- 
tile business at Salisbury, Conn. He was a member of the church 
at Lebanon, and afterwards at Salisbury. His death occurred in 
1761. Zaccheus ISTewcomb, son of Thomas, was born at Lebanon 
in 1724. After attaining his majority he removed to Pleasant 
Valley, Duchess Co., N. Y. He served in the Revolutionary War, 
and while he was in the army his wife built a fine brick house, 
which remains to this day. It is said that she presented General 
Washington and the British Commander Avith cheeses from her 
own dairy. 

John Xewcomb, son of the Eevolutiouary patriot, was born 
at Pleasant Valley, N. Y., on March 1, 1770. Li 1791 he married 
Ruth, daughter of Judge Isaac Bloom, He inherited 300 acres of 
land in Albany County. One of his sons, Isaac B. Newcomb, 
married Julia Marshall and removed to Annandale, Fairfax 
County, Va. When the Rebellion broke out, he was arrested on 
account of his well-knoAvn Union sentiments, and died a prisoner 
of war at Libby prison, in November, 1861. Another son of John 
Newcomb, is Mr. John Jay Newcomb, of Boston. His native 
place was Pleasant Valley, X. Y, While residing at Troy, X, Y,, 
in October, 1837, Mr. J. J. Newcomb married Mary Starbuck, 
daughter of Benjamin S. and Maria (Starbuck) Marshall, During 
the war of 1812 Mrs. Xewcomb's father was captured at sea, and 
was one of the Dartmoor prisoners. One of her ancestors was a 
distinguished officer of high rank in the navy. For a short time 
Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb resided at Toledo, O,, Avhere their first 
child, Leila Antoinette, was born. This darling daughter died 
when 3 years of age. The birth of Edgar, the oldest son, is 



recorded above. When lie was about six months old, Mr. and 
Mrs. Newcomb removed to Boston, Mass., where they still reside. 
A daiigliter (Leila Frances) and three sons (Charles Benjamin, 
John Jay and James Gift'ord) were born in Boston, 

Edgar was a healthy child, althongh his constitution was 
rather delicate. He was tenderly nurtured, and received his 
]»rimar}4 education at home. In childhood and youth he was in 
great measure shielded from external influences which usually 
tend to develope the rudeness of boyish nature. He was a bright 
and clcA^er lad, Avith handsome features of almost feminine deli- 
cacy, refined in his disposition and deportment, studious and in all 
respects exemplary. He instinctively discerned the poetic and 
beautiful in nature and art. The child of Christian parents he 
was fond of meditating upon the high themes of destiny, and at 
the early age of eleven years consecrated himself to a religious 
life ; ever seeking to perform duty — tlie noble idea Avliich in after 
years inspired his soldierly career. 

Soon after this important and pivotal point in his history, it 
was deemed advisable to place him under public instruction, and 
accordingly he entered the Adams Grammar School, on Mason 
street, Boston, and remained a pupil of tliis school for six months. 
In September, 1852, Edgar was admitted a member of the fourth 
class in the Public Latin School, on Bedford street. The Rev. 
Henry F. Jenks, in his history of the school, declared it to be 
" the oldest educational institution in the country. Its first 
masters might have seen Shakesj>eare act in his own plays. * * 
A preparatory school should naturally be established before a 
college : So it is not strange that this school antedates Harvard 
College by two or three years, justifying the remark of a distin- 
guished graduate of both, that 'the Latin School dandled Harvaid 
College on her knees'. The establishment of this school is largely 
due to John Cotton, who brought to this country a knowledge of the 
High School which was founded by Philip and Mary in 1554, in 
Boston, in Lincolnshire, England, in which Latin and Greek were 
taught. Cotton came to this country in 1638, and was one of the 
ministers of the First Church. Two years latei-, the Free School 
was established. " The school-house on Bedford street was the 
fourth building erected for the time-honored school, and this 



substantial edifice has recently ceased to exist, the school remov- 
ing to a structure of almost palatial elegance on Warren avenue. 

Francis Gardner, for a long period a faithful instructor in 
the school, had been appointed principal shortly before young 
Newcomb became a pupil. The regular course of study at this 
l)eriod occupied six years ; but Master Gardner quickly discerning 
Edgar's superior talents, encouraged him to make extra exertions 
and complete the prescribed studies in four years. This advice 
was cheerfully accepted, and our diligent friend, with commend- 
able ambition, toiled early and late at his daily task. Such un- 
wearied application to study was not without gratifying results, 
for his carefully-prepared lessons were uniformly recited with 
credit. 

Near the close of his course at the Latin School, several 
members of the class requested permission to visit the Charles- 
town Navy Yard on the day a])pointed for the launching of the 
Merrimac, the famous vessel Avhich was afterwards transformed 
into a Confederate iron-clad ram, at Norfolk, Ya. Edgar was as 
interested in the event as any of his classmates, but preferred to 
remain at school, regarding study as a duty not to be neglected. 
One of his letters, printed on a subsequent page, records his 
impressions on board an army ti-ansport, near the scene of the 
desperate naval engagement between the Merrimac and the Mon- 
itor — the first terrific encounter between ironclad vessels in the 
history of the world. 

Newcomb's kindness and inclination to serve others will 
appear from the following incidents. Once a year, during vaca- 
tion. Master Gardner was accustomed to examine and re-arrange 
the books and engravings in the library of the Latin School 
Association. On these occasions he was aided by a few of his 
pupils who volunteered their services ; Edgar was more than once 
among the number, considering it no hardship to work all day, 
while his schoolmates were spending their time in idleness or 
recreation. 

The sessions of the school were five hours in length, from 
9 A. M. to 2 p. M., and during recess in summer the boys sometimes 
desired a cooling beverage. In order to supply the wants of his 
intimate friends, Newcomb obtained permission to visit his home 



9 



—at that time on Essex street, not far from the schoolhouse— 
for the purpose of preparing lemonade and other paLatable re- 
freshments. For these services he at first declined to receive any 
remuneration, and never would take more than the actual cost. 

Acting according to the promptings of a laudable ambition, 
Xewcomb^once or twice engaged in the competition for the 
Lawrence prizes, and his efforts bore fruitage in honorable 
rewards. On May 26, 1855, he received a prize "for a poetical 
translation from Virgil." Some amusement was caused by the 
occurrence of a misprint in the catalogue, stating that the prize 
was for a " i)ractical translation from Virgil." The Kev. Will C. 
Wood of Scituate, Mass., a class-mate whose memory is rarely at 
fault, writes as follows: "I am quite confident he also had a 
prize for good conduct or scholarship." 

About this period Edgar made a public declaration of his 
Christian faith by becoming a member of Park Street church. 
A portion of the records of this church were destroyed in the 
great Boston fire in 1872, and consequently the exact date cannot 
be given. Several friends made profession of religion at the 
same time, and the occasion was a joyful one in the highest sense. 
In the course of his last term at the Latin School Newcomb 
made a si)irited translation of a passage from a Greek funeral 
..ration, in memory of soldiers who died for their country. The 
good seed of patriotism fell into good ground, and afterwards 
vielded abundant increase. 

Exercises in elocution very properly held a prominent place 
in the stuAies of the school. On a well-remembered "Public 
Saturday," in the presence of a large audience, Edgar's declama- 
tion was particularly impressive and thrilling. His selection on 
that day was " The'Soldier from Bingen," and his interpretation 
of the plaintive utterances of the dying soldier-lad was extremely 
touching. Was it prophetic of his own glorious destiny? 

[When he was only seven years old another remarkable in- 
cident occurred, apparently fore-ordained with relation to coming 
events. In companv with his parents he visited Fairfax, Xn., and 
gazed upon the Court House which he was afterwards called upon 
to defend amid the vicissitudes of fratricidal war. Keflections 



10 

upon this occasion will be found in one of his letters on a subse- 
quent page.] 

On July 12, 1856, tlie graduating exercises of Newconib's 
class were held in the exhibition hall of the Latin School. The 
following account is taken from the Boston Journal: " As the oldest 
classical institution in the country, and the crowning glory of the 
public schools of this city, all its public days are deserving of 
attention. On this occasion the attendance was large, and the 
audience appeared to be highly gratified. The exercises com- 
menced with an examination of the several classes in the studies 
of the i)ast year. In these the yoiing gentlemen showed evidence 
of careful study and training, and a degree of proficiency worthy 
the high reputation of the" school. Next in order the members 
of the graduating class delivered their 'parts' in a satisfactory 
manner. The speaking in most cases was of a high order, espec- 
ially that of the prize boys." Edgar's jiai-t was an excellent 
"Poetical Translation from Ovid." His natural gifts as a poet 
were manifcited in a degree which was quite remarkable for one 
of his years. 



COLLEGE LIFE AND EUROPEAN TOUR. 



•' Much study is a weariness of tlie flesh,"— Ecclesiastes XU, 12. 

A few days after graduating from the Latin School, Xew- 
conib was admitted a member of the freshman class of Harvard 
College, passing the examinations with brilliant success. In com- 
pany with one of his classmates at the Latin School, (Frederic 
William Batchelder), he engaged rooms at the residence of Mr. J. 
S. Bates, No 15 Billiard street, (a few minutes' walk from the col- 
lege grounds in Old Cambridge) where he remained two years. 
The Holmes school-house Avas erected on the lot directly opi)osite, 
a few years ago. From Hilliard street it is nearly a straight line, 
through Appian way, to the soldiers' monument on Cambridge 
common. Throughout the college course Edgar boarded with his 
parents at No. 56 Worcester street, Boston, where the family still 
resides. When the weather was pleasant he often walked from 
Cambridge to Boston in the evening, softly singing, "I'm^ a 
Pilgrim," "Homeward Boimd," and other sacred melodies. "For 
he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder ajid 
maker is God." 

One or two summer vacations were spent at Watertown, 
Mass., and our young friend experienced great pleasure in visiting 
the United States arsenal on the banks of the Charles. Here 
again we notice an apparent foreshadowing of his military career. 
Although his intrepid nature and innate heroism were usually 
concealed beneath a quiet exterior, intimate friends now and then 
caught glimpses of these martial qualities in his juvenile sports. 
In a few instances Newcomb surprised some of his classmates by 
exhibiting boldness in forming his plans, and steadiness in carry- 
ing them into execution. His associates had never dreamed that 



12 

daring qualities M-ere inherent in his mental constitvition, and 
regard for their own safety prevented any attempt at imitation. 
In after years, as the reader will discover, this rare trait of true 
courage was manifested amid scenes of carnage which appalled 
even veteran troops ; and Newcomb was often found at the front 
when the shafts of death were falling fast on every side. 

Our friend was zealous in the performance of religious duty, 
but his piety was never of a gloomy and repellent character. No 
young man more heartily enjoyed the lawful and innocent pleas- 
ures of earth. Edgar possessed- the happy faculty of blending 
Christianity witli the common affaii-s of life, and even with his 
recreations. His good-natured i)leasantry was noticeable on all 
])roper occasions, and his merry laugh will not soon be forgotten. 
In social circles his ready Avit and genial smile made him the 
centre of attraction. lie was })articularly skilled in the game of 
chess, and saw no im]»ropriety in mingling observations upon the 
liighest tliemes with the mana?uvring of pieces upon the board. 
While vanquisliing an opponent in tliis hitricate pastime he oc- 
casionally secured a double victory by pressing theological con- 
clusions Avitli irresistible logic. 

During the second lialf of tlie college course our diligent 
student occupied room No. 20 in Graduates' Hall. This building 
was afterwards enlarged as the necessities of the Univei'sity 
required, and is now known as College House. F, W, Batchelder 
and C. A. Nelson were Newcomb's " chums " during the junior 
year, and D. T. 8. Leland was his room-mate during the senior 
year. Otlier friends were frequently entertained at " G, 20," and 
the remembrance of those days is exceedingly pleasant. 

Newcomb was- an active member of the "Ydell Cruth," one 
of the societies which was "organized by and passed out of 
existence with the class" of I860. In July, 1859, he delivered 
before the society a beautiful poem, which is given below. 

ZOROASTER'S VISION. 
Ages before the morning stars had sung, 
Or angel's praise through heaven's high arches rung, 
Awful the stillness when thiough space alone, 
Wrapt in eternal light, shone Alhih's throne. 
Rut grander j-et the moment when before 
That mighty throne stood two, whose image bore 



13 

The impress of their God, whose adverse sway 

Must ever part the universe to be. 

Oue, radiant with the lij^ht which ever streamed 

From Allah's self, the «oul of goodness seemed. 

Worthy the source divine from which he sprung, 

Worthy the anthems of immortal song. 

His brother, frowning as the blacl< of night, 

Shrc iided in stormy clouds his equal might, 

And, flashing hate from out the deepening gloom, 

Bespoke a demon's rage, a demon's home. 

Ages rolled on ; and angel choirs had sung 

The latest blessing Ormusd's hand liad given,— 

A new-born world which round his footstool swung, 

Suspended by a silver cord from heaven. 

The dust that lay on the celestial floor 

Lighted and cheered its seraph messeugers, 

And sweetly broke on its eternal fehore 

The faint exquisite music of the spheres. 

But brigliter shines that new-created star, 

Illumining the dusky realms of space, 

And sweeter than tlie notes of angels are, 

Rises the incense of her morning praise. 

Silent and swift, the chariot of the sun 

Circles the planet on its shining way, 

And night, in trailing garments, follows on, 

Fringing her skirts with his declining ray. 

The ram-drop falls upon her fcrtiled breast, 

And springs again in beauteous drapery, — 

The purpling cluster, or the golden crest 

Of harvest plenty, or the olive tree. 

The woodland kings, lifting their arms on high, 

Applaud with myriad bands the rosy morn ; 

And Flora's realms, in blushing ecstas}', 

The fragrant kisses of the breeze return ; 

While animate creation lends the voice 

Of its dumb eloquence to swell the song, 

The gushing tribute of ten thousand joys 

Whose grateful utterance makes those joys more strong: 

But, last and best of all earth's creatures, man, 

Immortal image of the Eternal One ; 

And woman's love that broke and joined again 

The link that bound her home to Ormusd's throne. 

Ye seraphs, adore him who swings in the skies 
The censer whose perfumes so sweetly arise. 
O children of earth, in the joy of your morning, 
Resound ye the praise of the infiuite Lord, 
Who has set in the realms of heaven's adorning 
This emerald gem by the might of his word. 



14 

Rejoice, for the choirs of heaven descending 
Illnmine the earth and the dwellings of men; 
And angels, with mortals in harmony blending, 
Waft upward the notes of their chanting again. 
Jehovah comes down from the throne of his glory 
To talk with his creatures and order their song ; 
Oh, ages, repeat the delectable story : 
And. heaven, the tale of its mercy prolong. 
Ye seraphs, adore him who swings in the skies 
The censer whose perfumes so sweetly arise. 

Then Ahriman arrays his evil band : 
Unseen and silently their footsteps fall. 
Till ou the utmost hound of earth they siaud 
And eager plot their hellish carnival. 
The sun shone brightly on the fields of earth, 
The songs of joy still rolled along her vales. 
And nature knew not of the evil birth 
Which time, alas 1 too fearfully reveals. 
A demon breathes upon the harvest grain. 
And blighting mildew rots its golden fruit. 
And quickly follow in their hateful train. 
To feast upon its wealth with fierce dispute, 
The noisy insect and the loathsome worm. 
He treads the earth, and from his footsteps spring 
The nettle's thorny spike, and every form 
That demon skill could work of bane or sting ; 
The yew and cypress hang their mournful heads, 
The Upas-tree distils its deadly ooze. 
And even now, as fall the evening shades, 
Earth tells her sorrows in the falling dews. 
A demon points the serpent's fatal fang. 
And bids him hiss along his slimy way ; 
A demon teaches well the lions tongue 
To drink the life-blood of a human prey. 
The Sun draws near in his meridian blaze 
To scorch earth's bosom with his summer heat ; 
Then leaves her to deplore his distant rays. 
Wrapt in the chill of winter's winding sheet ; 
And nature's self, trembling in helpless pride. 
And deeply moaning in her agony. 
Pours her wild grief adown the mountain-side, 
Till its hot streams are stifled in the sea. 
But, last and greatest of her myriad woes— 
The cherished work of the Arch Fiend alone- 
Man, sinning, falls, and woman only knows 
To yield her love and blindly follow on. 

Let the seraphim cease in this sounding of praise. 
For the wailings of sorrow have reached to the skies. 



15 

Sweet was the brightness of earth's sunny morning 

E'er the tempter had clouded the sky of her joy. 

And dark is the night that now utters its warning, 

When their mission is ended wlio came to destroy. 

Ye children of men, let the light of your dwelling 

Be darkened, and hushed be the voice of your song ; 

For the wrath that has followed your faithless (ebelling 

Shall deepen its course as it hurries along. 

Bewail, for the choirs of heaven ascending, 

In sorrow, have fled the pollution of men ; 

And over the heavenly hattlemcnts bending, 

In sorrow look back on earth's beauty again. 

Jehovah no more from the throne of his glory 

Descends to the homes of his children below ; 

No more will their voices repeat the glad story, 

And the choirs of heaven its harmony know. 

Let the Seraphim cease in their chanting of praise, 

For the wailings of sorrow have reached to the skies. 

Thus ends Part I. of Ibis poem, which speaks for itself and 
requires no praise. It bears silent testimony to the remarkable 
gifts of the composer. Illness j ire vented the eom2)letion of Part II. 
In his last year at Cambridge our poet became a member of 
another College society — the Christian Brethren — which is still in 
a flourisliing condition. When circumstances "would permit, he 
attended its meetings and other religious gatherings. 

Early in the senior year Xewcomb developed a taste which 
at first surprised his friends. As far as is known he never 
expressed an intention of entering the medical profession. Yet 
he accepted with evident satisfaction an invitation to visit the 
Massachusetts General Hospital. For a number of weeks in 
succession he visited the institution, and witnessed the surgical 
operations with attention and interest, subsequently describing 
the treatment with remarkable accuracy. Beneath that venerable 
dome, in the operating room where ether was first administered 
in cajiital operations, Newcomb renewed his acquaintance with 
Josiah N. Willard who had nearly finished his medical studies. 
Seven years previous to this date they studied the classics in 
Master Gardner's room at the Latin School, Willard's class being 
three years in advance. .^Vt Cambridge, they occasionally ex- 
changed greetings during Willard's senior year. In the o])erating 
theatre Willard was happy to explain the points most attractive 



16 

to a t}TO in medical science. Less than two years after the 
hos^iital interviews their paths again converged, and they met 
upon the tented fiekl as members of tlie same regiment. When 
the Nineteenth Regiment, Mass. Vols., was organized. Dr. "VYillard 
was commissioned Assistant Surgeon. During active service, 
Newcomb frequently devoted his spare moments to the relief of 
the sick and wounded. The under-graduate's strange predilection 
for hospital scenes was Pi-ovidentially intended as a preparation 
for usefulness amid the horrors of war. If we are surrounded 
with mystery and uncertainty, let us confidently hope for a satis- 
factory explanation — here or hereafter. 

The words of the wise ruler, quoted at the commencement of 
this chapter, proved true in the case of our friend before the 
college curriculum came to a close. Much study induced physical 
weakness and nervous prostration. Long contmued mental appli- 
cation became imj^ossible, and efforts to secure university honors 
were discontinued. Still the ambitious student performed more 
work than was advisable under the circumstances, a change of 
scene became an imperative duty, and a voyage to Euroj^e was 
recommended by the family physician. 

Before bidding adieu to the university, perhaps it may not 
seem out of place to present the reflections and observations of 
some surviving members of Xewcomb's class, written years after 
his decease. The Rev. James C. Fernald, in the " Harvard Mem- 
orial Biographies," writes as follows: "In person Lieut. Newcomb 
was above the medium height, with well-proportioned figure, 
pleasing features and a comi)lexion of feminine fairness. * * 
His college course was more jn-ominently marked by the unusual 
rectitude and purity of his life — and by a religious activity, 
earnest without ostensiveness or arrogance — than by high intel- 
lectual triumphs. These were, indeed, precluded by the state of 
his health. * * His military career was of a peculiar type. There 
were elements latent in his character which needed only the 
touch of duty and danger to make him conspicuous among the 
brave. * * The enthusiastic valor he displayed was a surprise 
to many." Other classmates express their appreciation of his 
character in similar terms. 

The following passage occurs in a letter written by Dr. 



17 

Franklin Nickerson, of Lowell: "I feci sure that I should !;ini})ly 
be bearing testimony to what you perhaps know more fully, iu 
any attem]»t that I should make to describe our hero, for true 
hero he was as I believe, throughout life. The Procritstean reci- 
tation room did not give him scope for that display of the higher 
qualities of his nature which the broader field of life afforded. 
We little thought that Shaw and Xewcomb, both alike quiet and 
unobtrusive as they were in their boyhood, would turn out to be 
such men of action and leave behind them an immortal record. 
I think Newcomb's life was of the highest type. One trait of his 
character shone forth with great strength through his modest 
retirement of manner, and that was moral courage. He was head 
and shoulders above most of his fellows in this respect. He was 
one of the few of our number Avho could rise superior to the 
temptations of student life. " 

The Rev. Will C. Wood, of Scituate, Mass., gives the follo-sv- 
ing testimony: "Newcomb I remember as a hearty, cheerful, 
noble fellow. Strangely I think of him more than in any other 
locality in Mount Aubuin. One of the walks and times there you 
will recollect." Dr. P^-ancis M. Weld, of Xew York city, secretary 
of the class of 186U, also refers to Mount Auburn " in whose sacred 
precincts Newcomb delighted, when at Cambridge, to seclude 
himself for study and meditation. " 

Limited sjiace requires that college reminiscences should be 
brought to a close. Contemplating a prolonged sojourn across 
the sea, Edgar wrote to a relative as follows : " I shall often think 
of you in my absence, and always as of one growing in grace, 'hnd 
learning daily that the Christian life-work is to supply defects and 
correct the perverted woi-king of our own faculties, rather than 
watch the development of graces already in existence." 

Shortly before commencement in 1860, Newcomb engaged 
l)assage for Europe in the bark " Lawrence," sailing from St. John, 
X. B. The captain's wife was also a 2)assenger. After a pleasant 
voyage Edgar landed in England, but soon had the misfortune to 
lose his baggage, letters of introduction and most of his money. 
Determined to continue his journey as long as jiossible, the 
undaunted and persevering traveller reduced his expenses by a 
pedestrian excursion tlirough a portion of England and France. 



18 

On arriving at Paris he had only sLxty cents left, and wisely 
sought the advice of the American Consul. In this time of need 
he Avas thankful to meet Mr. Clark, a valued friend whom he 
afterwards met in the army, and an acquaintance Avho Avas form- 
erly a member of the Harvard Law School. Newcomb's knoA\'- 
ledge of French was found very useful in Paris. A thorough di-ill 
in this language at the Latin School in Boston hnparted much 
more than the smattering of the Gallic tongue comnjonly at the 
command of our countrymen in France. While walking the 
streets of Paris, our friend became the guide of two English gen- 
tlemen who were unable to speak a Avord of French. They 
recognized not only liis usefulness in this capacity, but his agree- 
able manners, superior intelligence and excellent education. They 
requested his com])any on a trip to Versailles, but the invitation 
was courteously declined. The gentlemen insisted upon knowing 
some good reason for the refusal, and Edgar frankly admitted 
that he could not afford the expense. The generous Englishmen 
offered ten ])ounds sterling, and secured his valuable services as 
inferpreter and companion. In the midst of his pecuniary misfor- 
tunes Newcomlj wrote to a Mr. Walton at whose house he had 
stopped while in London. Mr. Walton, knowing instinctively that 
the young American was perfectly trustworthy, }>romptly sent a 
small remittance. Thinking it was imprudent to proceed further 
with such slender resources, Edgar returned to England and 
engaged passage in a sailing vessel bound for New York. 

Arriving home late in the autumn, the health of our traveller 
Ava^ considerably improved, but still he was not sufficiently vigorous 
for a regular course of professional training, and his cherished 
expectation of commencing theological studies Avas indefinitely 
jjostponed. To one possessing his active temperament idleness 
would be an impossibility, and he gladly accepted a position as 
clerk in his father's counting room on Commerce street, Boston. 
Mr. John J. NcAVComb carried on an extensive business as com- 
mission merchant, dealing largely in Hour, })ork and other staple 
conmiodities. Edgar soon became familiai- Avith the routine of 
business at the store, collected bills, attended to financial trans- 
actions at the banks, and superintended the shipment of merchan- 
dise. On Sundays and Friday evenings he Avas never absent from 



19 

dmrcli. As an avocation lie fre(iuently engaged in tlieological, 
literary and political discussions with intimate acquaintances. 
Soon after the triumph of the Republican party, resulting in the 
election of Abraham Lincoln to the presidency, Edgar recpgnized 
the fact that war was inevitable. 

MARTIAL ECHOES. 
"Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ."— 2 Tim. II, 3. 

" Our native land to thee, 

lu one united vow, 
To keep thee strong and free 

And gh)rious as now — 

We pledge each heart and hand. 
By the blood our fathers slied, 
By the ashes of our dead, 
By the sacred soil we tread, 

God for our native laud." 

George AV. Hethune. 

Early in May, 1861, as an obedient son of a New England 
home, Edgar asked his mother this important question : " Mother, 
woidd you be willing to let me go to the war?" The loyal lady 
replied, "Yes; and I would go myself, if I could." No serious 
obstacle being in the way, our jxatriotic young citizen during 
leisure hours prepared himself daily for his country's service by 
private military drill, becoming quite proficient in the manual of 
arms. After the first disaster to the national cause at Bull Kun, 
he made this remark to a classmate: "I felt so ashamed at the 
result that I coidd not look any one in the face." More than once 
Edgar visited camps of instruction at Lynnfiekl, Readville and 
elsewhere. After an intervicAv with a student friend who had 
already enlisted at great personal sacrifice, Newcomb determined 
to do likewise at the first favorable opportunity. His decision 
was almost inevitable under the circumstances. Sentiments of 
patriotism and loyalty were powerfully stimulated. Military en- 
thusiasm had heretofore been a slumbering element in Edgar's 
nature, and it was full> aroused by the national call to arms.. 
We have seen that one of his ancestors was a Lieutenant in 1691. 
.Vnother direct ancestor was a Revolutionary soldier. His Grand- 
father, (on his mother's side,) had suffered in the war of 1812. 
The Newcombs in America may justly claiui to be a martial 



•20 



family; 21 members of the family served in wars before the dev- 
olution ; 71 in the llevolutionary Avar ; 71 in the war of 1812 : 7 in 
the Mexican Avar ; 225 on the Union side in the Avar of the Ke- 
bellion. Several of these patriots attained higli rank, and all of 
them Avere faithful soldiers. « ProAvess eminent," like other 
mental characteristics, may be inherited in some degree. 



CAMP AT LYNXFIELD. 

At this time NcAvcomb Avas boarding Avith his relatives at 
a stately mansion overlooking Barrett's jiond, in Maiden, Mass. 
One of his visits to Camp Schouler, at Lynnfield, during the 
second or tliird AA'eek of August, 1861, Avas unusually prolonged, 
leading his parents to suspect that their son could no longer 
refrain from carrying his noble luirjjose into execution. Return- 
ing, the next day, Edgar requested a confidential intervicAV Avith 
Mrs. NeAvcomb and said: "3Iother I am going away tomorroAV," 
and his mother's consent given in May Avas not retracted. 
Accordingly, on the folloAving morning he left for Lynnfield, 
entered the camp of tlie Nineteenth Mass. Vols., and offered his 
services to Captain Edmund Rice (a gentleman Avith Avhom he 
Avas someAAdiat acquainted), then in command of com])any F. 
This excellent officer advised his i-ecruit not to be mnstere<l into 
the United States' service imtil the regiment Avas about to leave 
for the front. Captain Rice kindly introduced XeAvcomb to a 
congenial comrade of refined and gentlemanly tastes, E. G. Man- 
ning, of North Andover. This exemplaiy young man rose from 
the ranks, and eventually attained the rank of Cai)tain in another 
regiment. NcAvcond/s relatives visited the camj), and he Avas 
alloAved to spend the folloAving Sabbath at home. 

^V large number of Essex County men enlisted in the Nine- 
teentli regiment. During the three months' service at the 
commencement of the Avar, the Eighth regiment Avas commanded 
by Colonel Edward W. Hinks, of Lynn, Avho has the reputation of 
being the first man who offered his services for the Avar. On his 
return to Massachusetts the gallant Colonel Avas insti'ucted to 
assume command of the Xineteenth Mass. Vols., enlisted for three 
years. The regiment was ordered to leave the State on Wednes 



•21 

clay, August 28. The Daily Eveniug Transcript of that date 
contains the following: "The Nineteenth regiment, Col. Hinks, 
which has been in camp at Lynnfiekl for several weeks, will leave 
for the seat of war this afternoon. The camp will be broken up 
and the tents struck at three o'clock, and the troops come to 
Boston by the way of Salem, over the Eastern 1 Railroad, reaching 
the city about five. They go to New York by the Fall River 
route, and will leave the depot of the Old Colony Railroad at 
seven o'clock. Tlio following is tlie roster of the regiment : 

Colonel — Edward W. llinks, Lynn. 
Lieutenant Colonel— \\-\\\\\y F. Deverean, S.ilcm. 
Major — Henry J. How, Haverhill. 
Surgeon — J. Franklin Dyer, Rockport. 
Assistant Surgeon — losiah N. Wiilard, Txistoii. 
Adjutant — Tohn C. Chadwick, Salem. 
Quartermaster — Levi Shaw, Rock])ort. 

Co. A, Captain, :Moses P. Stanwood, West Newbury; 1st Lieut., 

Charles M. ]\Ierritt, Lynn; 2nd Lieut., Isaac H. Boyd, 

West Newbury. 
Co. B, Cai)tain, Elijah P. Rogers, West Newlniry; 1st Lieut., John 

Hodges, Jr., Salem; 2d Lieut., James T. Lurvey, Lowell. 
Co. C, Captain, J.Scott Todd, Rowley; 1st Lieut., George W. 

Hatchelder, Salem ; 2d Lieut., Samuel S. Prime, Rowley. 
Co. D, Captain, James D. Russell, Boston; 1st Lieut., Monceua 

Dunn, Boston ; 2d Lieut., John P. Reynolds, Jr., Salem. 
Co. E, Cai)tain, Andrew Mahoney, Boston ; 1st Lieut., David Lee, 

Boston; 2d Lieut., George M. Barry, Boston. 
Co. F, Captain, Edmund Rice, Cambridge; 1st Lieut., James H. 

Rice, Brighton; 2d Lieut., James G. C. Dodge, P)Oston. 
Co. G, Captain, Harrison (J. O.Weymouth, Lowell; 1st Lieui., 

Samuel D. Ilovey, Lowell; 2d Lieut., Dudley C. IMumford, 

Lowell. 
Co. H, Captain, William H. Wilson., Roxbury ; 1st Lieut., Henry 

A. Hale, Salem ; 2d Lieut., Wm. H. Lecain, Boston. 
Co. I, Captain, Jonathan F. Plymi)ton, Boston; 1st Lieut., Chris- 
topher C. Sampson, Boston; 2d Lieut., Wm. L. Palmer, 
Salem. 



Co. K, Captain, Ansel D. Wass, Boston ; 1st Lieut., Eugene Kelty, 
Boston ; 2d Lieut., Edward P. Bishop, Boston." 



DEPARTURE OF THE 19th REGIMENT. 

On Wednesday, Aug. 28, 1861, promptly at the hour ai^point- 
ed, the regiment was ready to leave for the front. Full particu- 
lars will be found in Newcomb's letter dated Sept. 1, 1861. The 
Nineteenth came to Boston by way of Salem, as stated in the 
newspaper jjaragraph. According to a previous arrangement, 
when the regiment marched up State street, Boston, Newcomb's 
friends were at a ])rominent corner, and his mother gave this 
parting admonition : " Edgar, be a good boy." On marching 
through the city, the weight of equipments which eacii soldier 
was obliged to carry was no small burden to the strongest, and 
our friend's physical strength was hardly equal to the task. 
When the regiment arrived at the parade ground on Boston Com- 
mon a halt was ordered, and the men were allowed to rest for 
about two hours and a half. Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb were un- 
aware of this circumstance, and consequently lost an opportunity 
for further conversation with their son. Lieutenant (afterward 
Captain) James H, Rice, comments as follows: "It was a very 
trying experience for us all, the command being in heavy march- 
ing order, and the day being very warm. Newcomb was of slight 
physique, and I have no doubt he was much exhausted, as were 
many others, by the march and heat. " 

On the following day, the regiment arrived in New York city. 
A telegra])hic despatch, given below, was published in the Boston 
Journal: "New York, Thursday, Aug. 29. The Massachusetts 
19th regiment arrived via Fall River boat, at 2 o'clock this after- 
noon, and proceeded to Park barracks, where dinner was provided 
by Assistant Quarter-master Frank E. Howe. " Charles B. New- 
comb, a young brother, was at this time in New York city on 
business, and the joyful meeting of Charles and Edgar can well be 
imagined. Early on Friday morning, Aug. 30, the regiment 
reached Philadelphia. After a short rest the journey was resumed, 
no serious difficulty occured during the march through Baltimore, 
and the 19th arrived at Washini!;t<m after midnight. 



CAMP AT MERIDIAN HILL, XEAR WASHINGTON. 

On Satui-(lay afternoon Colonel Hinks received orders to 
march to JNIeridian hill, near the city. Here the regiment was 
alloAved to encamp and rest for a week or two. The followino- 
letter from Newcomb skives interestinsf details. 

Washixgtox, 1st Sept., 1861. 
Dearest Sister: 

Here I am at last, within ten miles or less of the enemy's 
pickets. We struck tents Tuesday last at Lynntield, passing the night 
in the open air. Privates slept on the ground; I, being Corporal, slep. 
on a board. AVednesday morning we received two days' rations, i. e., 
four sandwiches or eight crackers, and four pieces of ham. Expecting 
to go at 3 p. m., we were ordered to "harness up" about 2, but as we 
did not take the train till 4>^, our knapsacks &C., became very heavy 
long before that. At last, after much marching and standing in the 
hot sun, we went aboard the cars. As we started, every man shouted 
and almost screamed for joy, and continued it till we reached Boston. 
They cheered for the Captain and Lieutenants, for the girls that sal. 
uted them as they passed, for the gun that boomed out as we reached 
and left Salem, and last for a potato-digger who stared at us as we 
passed. At 5 avc reached Boston and marched to the Common. 
Having seen you in State street, I did not expect to do so on the Com- 
mon, but I met some dozen friends. AVe remained on the Comnon, 
all harnessed and waiting for orders, till 8)4 p. m. ; when our officers 
having returned from supper, we marched to the Old Colony Railroad. 
At 2, Thursday a. m., we left Fall River; and here the privations of 
the Regiment generally, and of Co. F especially, began. Being the 
flank company, we came last aboard and were stowed in the steerage. 
The company before us had taken the berths even of this, and we 
slept on the floor. Fatigue overcame noise, and amid the talking and 
tramping around and above me, I slept almost without interruption 
imtil 8 the next morning. I woke up stiff and cold, and having no 
taste for hard bread, tried to buy of the cooks or darkies, but only the 
officers could be supplied, and I must go hungry. I found a man who 
sold mince pies and various drinks, and, not daring to try the former, 
I bought a glass of mineral water, but going a short time after into 
the steerage, it with llie foul air and an empty stomach made me so 
sick that I was permitted to put my baggage in the wagon, and since 
then I have travelled quite easily. Thursday noon we reached New 
York, and Co. F must stand guard. I thought it would be easier 
than marching and offered myself, but was refused because I was sick. 



i>4 

Again I offered, as I hoped to see Charlie, and another officer received 
me. As the guard filed out from the steamboat, Charlie saw and met 
me, and all day long we were alone together on a transport, while the 
rest of our company stood guard and sweated under their knapsacks, 
when the regiment halted on its hot and weary march through en- 
thusiastic and hospitable Xew York. In the evening the transport 
went to Amboy where I slept on the deck till the regiment arrived, 
and here I bade Charlie good-bye. His generosit}' and love had fed 
me in the morning with bread, tea and peaches, and filled my haver- 
sack at night with bread and beef steak. I felt far better because I 
had enjoyed his society for the day. We reached Philadelphia about 
3)^ Friday morning, and marched to the barracks established for the 
refreshment of soldiers; enjoyed an early breakfast and excellent. 
Thus far Boston alone had given her own children nothing to eat, and 
her farewell was least hearty and touching. As we left Philadelphia 
at 5, few men were awake, but from here to Ferry ville we were 
everywhere met with the most enthusiastic welcome. And touching it 
was, that our cause was so dear and sacred to the hearts of the multi- 
tude, that its defenders whom they had never seen before were treated 
so tenderly and generously. We marched through Baltimore 1}^ 
miles, and were cheered twice only; once by three persons led by a 
U. S. soldier. From Baltimore to Washington we rode in cattle-cars, 
and ai-rived at the latter place about 121^ p. m. We stood under arms 
in the dark till 2 Saturday a. m. , when we were marched in to a colla- 
tion of fat and stinking bacon, sour bread and pea coffee. I drank a 
few swallows of coffee, and returned to find that our company and 
one other were to sleep on a platform outside the building Avhere the 
rest of the regiment slept under cover. Fearing something of the 
sort, I had obtained from a fellow soldier the promise of his woollen 
Ijlanket (my own was in the baggage waggon,) and having procured 
it I lay down on the rough planks and slept till late in the morning. 
We were marched in to breakfast on the same fare as the night before, 
but the soldiers (impatient at having gone for 60 hours with but two 
fair meals when Uncle Sam provided for us so bountifully, and then 
insulted by such rations) threw them at one another and at the waiters. 
Next day the Colonel came to examine the bacon, and threw it across 
the room. When dinner came we fared better than before, but a 
second visit convinced us of his desire to do us justice, and the cater- 
ers of his disgust and indignation at our treatment. In the afternoon 
we marched three miles to our encampment on a hill well-wooded, 
from which we can see the country for miles around. The I'otomac 
is 1)^ miles distant, and the wliole country most delightful. We have 



25 

now fair rations, and sleep in tents; but there have been no services 
to-day, and as I heard the church-bells of Washington ringing, and 
thought that it was conniuniion Sabbath at home, I felt most deeply 
the d°eprivations of these blessings. Since last Monday I have neither 
changed my clothes nor read my Bible till to-day. I greatly enjoy 
myself nevertheless, and, but for a bad cold, am far better than usual. 
I iiavn't suffered from hunger since I arrived at New York, for there 
are very few places where that which answereth all things is of no 
avail. I have become acquainted with Lewis who is Adjutant's clerk. 
He has interested himself in me, but whether his friendship will 
amount to anything I do not know. All the company otHcers and 
many of the men seem especially kind to me, but it I thought my 
position other than temporary, I could not enjoy myself. In your 
answer to this letter tell me all about Ed. Hall's enlisting and how he 
procured his commission; where he is, and how he feels. There is 
nothing more of interest, and hereafter there will not be usually so 
much as this letter contains— camp life is so monotonous and devoid 
of "spice." Give my love to everybody. Tell everybody to write me, 
as, whenever I have time, all letters shall be readily answered. Di- 
rect in care Capt. llice, Co. F, 19th Keg., Washington. 

Edgaii. 

Tlie extract oiven below is taken from a letter written on the 
same day by Knights, a member of the reo-iment wh(^ occasionally 
acted as war correspondent of the Gloucester (Mass.) Telegrapli : 
"The difference between our muster and rendezvous cam])S at 
home and an encampment of trooi)S on service, never seemed to 
me so distinctly marked as it appears today ; and we ai-e compar- 
atively distant from the enemy. The hurrying to and fro of 
officers and squads of men,— the ringing of axes, himbering of 
wagons, and the shouts of the wagoners,— the smoke of camp- 
fire's, the frequent drum-beat and bngle-cal],— all these seem so 
much more in earnest than they do amid the quiet villages of 

home. " 

About the middle of September the regiment was ordered to 
take position further up the river, on the Maryland shore. After 
marcliing three days, bivouacking at Darnstown and Poolesville, 
the Nineteenth came to a pleasant resting-place at Ciim\) Benton, 
near Poolesville, and remained there until December. 



26 



CAMP BENTON. 

Military life at this post is vividly depicted in our hero's 
letters, from which extracts will be given. From the following 
letter it appears that Newcomb was soon detailed as clerk at the 
Head-quarters of Brigadier-General F. W. Lander. 

Brigade Head-quakters, 

Camp Benton, 23 Sept., 18G1. 
Dear Brother: 

1 will try to write you a few lines, though my fingers are so stiff 
I can hardly handle a pen. Last night I slept on a board floor, alone 
in a large tent, and as we had a little frost, this morning finds me cold 
and stiff". Two weeks ago today, I wrote to Col. Hinks. * * * Last 
Tuesday as I was washing my plate after dinner, I was summoned to 
his quarters. With fear and trembling, expecting some reprimand for 
crimes against I know not what, I obeyed. He questioned me as to 
my clerical ability, and under escort of a Lieutenant, sent me to Bri- 
gade Head-quarters ; and I am for the present head-clerk to Brigadier- 
General F. W. Lander. Two have tried as assistants and been reject- 
ed. Manning was recommended and is now at work with me. The 
work is not so difficult but confining. Yesterday, for instance, when 
I expected a rest we were kept at work all day. It seems to be de- 
creed to me — 1st, that I shall not fight ; 2nd, that I shall keep books 
and write. I value the position not so much for its intrinsic value as 
what it will bring. M3' health is excellent, and I find that the work 
which once excited me till nervousness and fever overcame all ability 
to work, now affects me little if any. Friday I received five letters. 
* * Thank the senders personally for me. The Adjutant went to 
Washington Saturday, and will probably return with my box. Please 
send no more boxes " till further orders." Enclosed I send a Coun- 
tersign as it was sent us from Division Head-quarters, and was sent 
by us to each Eeg't in the Brigade. In regard to your going to war, 
let me tell you that my office drill was of no use except as making me 
familiar with handling a gun; and that, as 1 would never have entered 
the ranks except in expectation of promotion, and could not carry my 
knapsack all the way on the first day's march, I could not advise you 
to enter, whose age, if nothing else, renders immediate promotion im- 
possible, and whose strength and endurance are so soon at an end. 
So be content with selling pork and flour and collecting bills, and you 
cannot, in my opinion, find any situation either so pleasant or so con- 
ducive to health. 



Last Tuesday night a mounted officer rode up to Head-quarters, 
and after private conversation with the General, rode off. Soon four 
companies of the 19th, this time not including Co. F, marched to 
Edwards Ferry or thereabouts. In expectation of an attempt on the 
part of the rebels to (;ross the river, they were posted in ambush and 
so lay all night. J>ut there was no demonstration, and in the mornuig 
they returned. Saturday night four companies of the 19th again 
turned out. Manning went with them, but I who slept in the office 
at some little distance from the Reg't, was not awakened by their 
departure. Again the midnight march proved fruitless, except as 
showing the bravery of our soldiers. AVitliout exception, the rank and 
file were most eager to fight, and those who were detailed for guard 
duty at the camp, in some instances ottered money to comrades to 
change places with them, but these offers were refused. * * I have 
not been so well for years before. Direct letters to Brigade Head- 
quarters, Camp Jienton, Md. Your Brother, 

Edgar. 

Tlie following (lescri[)tive paragraph is from a letter written 
by Knights on Oct. '2 : From the liill in the rear of our lines tlic 
jirospect is very fine. The regimental bands and the drums of 
the various corps at camp hours make noise enough, and the 
united sounds come up from tlie valley and re-eclio among the 
encircling woods most wonderfully and beautifully. The morning- 
landscape is especially charming ; the ground itself and the white 
tents glittering with silver dew-drops; and the changing leaves of 
the gum tree and dogwood in the edge of the forest shining like 
burnished gold. 

We are next favored with a glimpse of tent-life from New- 
comb's facile pen. 

BlIIGADE nEAD-(iUAKTERS, 

Camp Bexton, Oct. 10, 18G1. 
Dear Brother, 

Not feeling fit for anything on account of a severe cold, I 
thought that the pleasantest use of some spare time would be to write 
my most frequent correspondent, excepting always our little Mother. 
The last letters I received were from Leila and Miss. P. After a first 
reading I treated them as I do all others — laid them aside for a second 
reading, after the fashion of the ruminants with their food. And as 
this suggests the matter of our rations, let me inform you that they 
are much better than formerly; yet even now we are at times i-educed 
to bav<] !)read and tea or colTee. Since I have "signed off" from these 



28 

two last, bread and water do me for six hours at a time. Again at 
times we " feed " on beefsteak, potatoes and beans twice a day. 

It is now growing quite cold and frosty for several nights at a time. 
Then comes a pouring rain-storm of two or three days, followed by a 
liitter cold wind. Having, after repeated colds and chills, become dis- 
gusted with sleeping on the ground, Manning (now my only tent- 
companion) and myself projected a bed. Two tent-poles, resting on 
rocks till they were raised 18 inches from the ground, formed the sides; 
several boards (begged, bought or stolen, according to the necessities 
of the case) formed the slats, and one huge log the pillow. Two ticks 
filled with straw, and confined within their proper limits by stakes 
driven alongside the bed, are our feathers. Having completed this 
yesterday, we retired early last night to enjoy it. But as I was unused 
to such luxuries, having slept on boards or the ground for tAvo months, 
my sleep was light and interrupted. Tonight I hope to sleep better. 
From side to side of our tent, and half filling it, extends the double 
bed. From the ridge-pole are suspended our two rifles. Our cande- 
labra is a horizontal slip of wood nailed to one of the "uprights." An 
old cracker box forms our secretary, and our harness is under the bed. 
We felt so much elated as we surveyed our domestic arrangements, 
that we have bought a box of blacking and blacking-brush. Tomor- 
row we may buy a looking-glass. 

I was much pleased to learn that you are now contented to stay 
at home. I have met Prof. Schmitt, Captain of Co. E, 20th Reg., and 
several of my classmates. At first I was ashamed to speak to them. 
Of late I have gathered courage. I am the only one of all my ac- 
quaintances who has entered the ranks, and glorious as it will all I)e 
after promotion, the glory has not yet been revealed. 

Edgak. 

The next letter reveals one of the mysteries of army cooking. 

Brigade Hd. Qrs., 

Camp Bentok, Oct. 11, 1861. 
Dearest Sister: 

Since writing to Charlie I have received Mother's two letters 
of Oct. 7 and 8; had a supper of hard bread and water, a night's reot 
on my new bed, to which I am becoming accustomed, and a breakfast 
of beans and hard bread. One article of diet I forgot to mention — 
"loosconce," a hash of hard bread and pork, boiled with water till it 
has acquired the consistency of chowder. It is not so bad, but in my 
remarks on the excellency of various dishes, remember the proverb, 
" hunger is the lies! sauce." This lobsconce is a rare dish, being fur- 



•J9 

nished only when we have a sufficiency of pork and hard broad, and 
nothing else— three occurrences of very infrequent conjunction. 

Your letter was received not long ago, and I will now attempt to 
answer your questions. Touching the shirts I do not yet need them, 
but when I do you shall surely hear. My needle-book has been little 
used, as Uncle Sam's seamstresses use strong thread and plenty of it. 
The leaf you sent preserves its scent. I am very grateful for these 
evidences of vour love. As you have heard before this, my rank is 
not a Lieutenant's, nor the pay, nor the baggage allowed, but, if I am 
able, it soon shall be. 

I am sorry to heai- of Mr. Stone'.s delicate health, though not less 
that he is considering the feasability of going out with a regiment as 
Chaplain. Relinquishing all domestic joys, his large congregation 
and $4000 a year, for the roughness of camp life. But he knows his 
own business best. His sermon (in extract) which I received last 
night, was so good that I almost repented sending mother the message 
I did, but the copying of so much must be a troublesome job, and the 
pleasure it gives me hardlv a compensation. On the table beside me 
lies the CoHgregationalist of Oct. 4, sent to Manning. It looks like 
New En-iland. 

Hereafter I shall not write regularly. 1 have written Sunday, 
because then the time was my own, and my thoughts all turned home- 
ward ; but now I have as much leisure almost any other day. Some- 
times therefore I shall write oftener than once a week; sometimes not 
so often. There are so many things which I have neither time nor 
patience, nor space, nor inclination to write, that they must be drop- 
ped and forgotten. My love to all enquiring friends. 

' " Your aff. Brotiiek Ld. 



BALi;S BLUFF AND EDWARD'S FEKliV. 

" Come liithcr yc gallant iiieu. aud tdl 
The story of the day tliat Baker fell. 
Tell of the storm, the darkness and the ni-hU 
Ye watched and waited for the coming fight." 

The disastrous affair at Ball's Bluft' took place on October 21, 
18«3L A portion of tlie official report of Colonel Hinks is given 
below: "Learning that a column of our troops was crossing the 
Potomac on the 21st, at a point near the centre of Harrison s 
Island I hastened thither. With the 19th regiment I proceeded 
to the 'island. I learned that Colonel Baker had been kdled, and 



80 

found eveiylhing in confusion, our column being entirely routed. 
I at once took coinmand, arrested as far as possible the progress 
of the rout, restored order, and, to check the advance of the 
enemy who threatened to occui)y the island, I sent the 19th 
Massachusetts regiment to the front. After the i)assage of mv 
regiment, no re-enforcements crossed to the island. * * The 
companies of the 19th and :20th were greatly exhausted, having 
been constantly employed in intrenching, burying the dead, re- 
moving the wounded, and trans])orting the artillery to and from 
the island. " 

Correspondent Knights gives the following particulais in a 
Massachusetts paj.er : "At Edward's Ferry the shar]. shooters and 
Co. K of 'ours,' under command of Major Ifow of the 19th, suc- 
cessfully repulsed three rebel regiments after continual skirmish- 
ing for eighteen hours. General Lander was with them a portion 
of the time, and received a wound which has proved so severe as 
to interfere with the discharge of his Brigade duties. Colonel 
Hinks is acting Brigadier during his absence. It seems not im- 
IM-obable that the Colonel Avill substitute stars for the eagles on 
liis shoulder-straps." 

An accurate plan of the battle of Ball's Bluff has been draAvn 
by a member of the 19th Mass. Vols., and is in the possession of 
anotlier veteran of the same regiment, Mr. John L. IJobinson of 
Boston. 

Captain Stephen I. Newman of Cambridgeport, Mass., (for- 
merly Principal Musician of the 19th regiment) writes as follows : 
" I have the impression that Xewcomb Avas orderly to Genei-al 
Lander at the "battle of Edward's Ferry — the continuation of 
Ball's Bluff — and, if my memory serves me right, was promoted 
by recommendation of Adjutant John C. Chadwick, endorsed by 
General Lander, and apj.roved by Colonel Hinks." Edgar was 
informed of his promotion in November, and the event is briefly 
referred to in one of his letters. In a subsequent letter Captain 
Xewman kindly gives the following additional- information : " The 
19th Mass. was not in action at the battle called Ball's Bluff, Va., 
— but during the battle portions of it held Conrad's Ferry, Har- 
rison's Island and Edward's Fei-ry, to re-enforce any part of the 
field that would send for assistance, and to preserve communiea- 



31 

tiun with the fiehl on Oct. 21, 2-2. Two c-oini.auies (II and K,) 
under Major H. J . How, did cross at Edward's Ferry to ^'irginia, 
and skirmished all day (22d) with the enemy. It is there Cor- 
porals Xewcomb and Manning were with Brigadier General Fred. 
Lander, when Lander received his death-Avound. The Regimental 
Color has on it 'Edward's Ferry, Va.' Edward's Ferry was the 
first place that the regiment was under fire." 

Newcomb's brief comments on the battle appear in the 
folloAving letter: 

fJlJIGADK H'd (iiCs. 

Cami' I5entox,Oct. 31, 1801. 
Deakkst Sistek: 

Almost a week has passed since I last wrote home, and no change 
has been ma^le in Ihc location of our lirigadc; but on the other hand 
it become^ daily more probable we shall winter here. Yet as our 
arrangements are greatly modified by the movements of the enemy, 
there is still a possibility of oui- spending New Year's in a warmer 
climate. You have heard of our shameful retreats from Ball's liluff 
to Harrison's Island, from thence to the IMaryland shore, and about 
the same time from Mrginia across Edward's Ferry to Maryland again. 
Not a single instance of cowardice occurred, but this time the shame 
falls wholly on our leaders, who planned tlie expeditions. Gen. Lan- 
der was so disgusted as in the excitement of the moment to say that 
unless he considered our ultimate success doubtful, he would resign 
at once. Perhaps, probably, his words meant more than he intended, 
but the general opinion hereal)Outs is that this war will be a long one. 
This doesn't make so much difference to me personally as it did three 
months ago, for I grow daily in love with the workings of this system. 
As Corporal in Co. F, I saw the lowest and heaviest of the machinery; 
as clerk here I see the workings of the whole machine, and despite 
numerous flaws and frictions, the results of ignorance and want of 
time, I am yet most greatly pleased therewith. I bad hoped to be at 
home Thanksgiving, but the uncertainty of our plans and my peculiar 
position will prevent; unless (what is highly improbable) I return on 
public business. I had hoped to see at least our enterprising Bro. 
Charlie, perhaps also yourself or :Mother this week, as the i)apers 
advertised a trip to AVashington and back for -Ifl-ioO, and from Wash- 
ington to Camp is only a short stage-ride. * * * The General and 
staff went to Washington Saturday. He to get well before assuming 
command of the Cumberland district; his staff to get promotions so as 
to go with him. If he cannot take this Brigade with him, I have seen 



my last of Geii. Lander. Col. Hiuks commands the Diigade for the 
present, and being at his own H'd Qr's, almost always we have great 
liberty. For example, yesterday, p. 3i., Manning and I chartered two 
horses of U. S., and went horseback riding. We go to bed about 8)0 ■. 
or whenever we please, and I get up about 1% ^- ^i- '^^^^^ morning 
we breakfasted on beefsteak, bread, butter and molasses and cheese 
at 8)^. This p. M. we hope to ride again. Our tent is the absent 
Adjutant's, board floor, double roof. A wide trough filled with straw 
is our bed, and in the unaccustomed situation of Commander of the 
Brigade, the Col. and his Adj. entrust the management of affairs to 
the clerks themselves, only inspecting and endorsing our work. We 
usually finish work about 11 A. M., and spend the remainder of ths day 
as we please. The whole Brigade has now an hour's daily drill with 
knapsacks. 

An officer called to see me a few days ago. It was Capt. Drake. 
Soon after leavino; Boston as 2d Lieut, of the 12th, Senator Wilson 
sent him a Lieut's commission in the Regulars ; and his next step was 
to become Ass't Adj't General on Gen. Abercrombie's staff. He is 
most fortunate and deserving. I was greatly pleased with his visit. 
He treated me with the utmost kindness and consideration. 

I am patiently awaiting the arrival of that package, having but 
one pair of thick stockings, and that thoroughly perforated. Theii I 
fear the next storm, as my boots are of little value. Uncle Sam has 
both shoes and stockings, but he has little regard to/<ness, and I want 
clothing from home. While we read of hot weather in New York and 
Boston, we often awake in the morning to find the fields as white as 
}o hour's heavy snowing could make them, the dampness and frost 
are so great. 

Your letters (polyglot and all) are duly received. Also three 
papei's from Mother and one from Stanley. Mr. Stone sent me a note, 
for which I am most grateful. His sermon also, copied by Mother, 
was exceedingly interesting, the best essay of any kind J have read or 
heard for months. 

The wounded of the Twentieth are all doing well. Capt. Selunilt 

has only^ ihe wounds of two balls, which passed completely through, 

instead of five as at first supposed. * * Give Ed. my best regards 

whenever you may direct a letter to him, for by this time I suppose 

he is on his way Southward. 

Ed GAP. 

Even tlie dire confusion and indescribable anguish of battle 
nuiy soon give ])lace to tlie regular routine of camp-duty, and 
ere long our army friends write as thougli nothing liad liapjiened. 



3;} 

BlirGADE HEAD-tiUAKTERS, 

Camp Benton, Nov. 6, 1861. 
Dear Brother: 

My next letter was to have been directed to Mother, but the 
reception, day before yesterday, of your letter changed my intention, 
and little Mother must wait till next time. I rejoice at the prospect 
o± good things to come (for our Lieut, with the box is not yet 
returned from Washington,) and I am grateful to you and the others 
with a gratitude which only the actual possession of your gifts can 
enchance. * * Tell S. that £ laid aside all College lore and critical 
propensity with my civilian clothes at Lynnfleld. He need therefore 
fear nothing worse than an answer at my earliest convenience. * * 
M}^ reading matter is military books of which I have no lack. Any- 
thing else, except the papers 3'ou have so freely sent, would not at 
present be acceptable. Tracts are plenty at the Chaplain's quartei'S, 
but I could do nothing with them. liCt me descrilje the persons and 
doings of several, for Father's edification. And first. Gen. Lander — 
a very tall spare man of a huge sinewy frame, a high retreating fore- 
head and iron-gray hair. He rides a white horse whose foreshoulders 
are as high as my head. Few of the attaches of this establishment 
dai-ed mount him. The General loves to be praised and petted, though 
not a man dares disobey him, and when roused his enemies had better 
slink away. He is very nervous and restless when there is no fighting. 

The former Aide-de-Camp, whose autograph I send you, Avas on 
Butler's staff in "the three months" and covered the retreat at Big 
Bethel. He is only two days older than myself, very robust florid, 
talented and witty, a universal favorite, now Captain in the Regulars. 
Col. Hinks, now in command, is a most agreeable and soldier-like man, 
prepossessing at the first, and improving with acquaintance. * * 
Lieut. Dodge, after the fight at BalVs Bluff, crossed to Virginia with 
a flag of truce, to look after the dead. He approached within two or 
three miles of Leesburg, and performed his duty so bravely as 
to win the praise of the Colonel. Prentiss is now transferred to the 
commissary department. Colburn is sadly homesick. He is one of 
the eight corporals who guard the colors. 

Of the four postage stamps Mother sent me, one I gave away, 
two paid for a pint of molasses, and the last found its way to ]]oston 
on my last letter. I am greatly rejoiced at your steadfast purpose to 
stay at home. All the family need you, and to my thinking it requires 
more courage to give up military reputation than to suffer the priva- 
tions of camp-life. In fact the actual experience of this last is neither 
so terrible nor exciting, nor painful as the imagination paints it, and 



u 

bears to the imaghiatioii aljout the same rehxtiou as does a sea-faring 
life. Edgak. 

Xewconib's clerksliip at llead-cjuarters tevDiinated soon after 
the last letter was written, and it also a})pears that he was ill 
about this time. Ca])t. W. E. Barrows, fotmerly Hospital Stewai'd 
of the 19th regiment, writes: "I am hapi)y to say tl\at Edgar's 
friendsliip was enjoyed by me from the first. I tliink I met him 
first as a patient in the hospital at Poolesville — after he had left 
General Lander's office." 

After his promotion as Sergeant ^Major of tlie regiment, 
our hero gives another graphic account of life under canvas. 

Camp Benton, Xov. 15, 18G1. 
Dear Brother: 

The day is rainy, my box is not yet arrived at camp, and since 
mounting guard and linishing the Regimental morning report I have 
had nothing to do but try to keep myself dr}- and warm — no easy job 
when the soil is soft, and boots are full of holes, and smoke is the only 
result of an hour's effort to build a tire. Our apparatus for heating is 
quite simple and primitive. A trough about 18 inches deep and 2 
feet wide is dug from the centre of the tent to the outside. This is 
covered with broad tlat stones, a barrel over the outer end forms a 
chimney, and the whole is plastered with mud. A small opening left 
in the centre of the tent serves as a door for the admission of fuel 
and, when the winds are contrary, for the exit of smoke. Over the 
fire-place I am now se-ated, my feet warmed b}' the covering stones in 
the Sergeant ^lajor's tent, a room about 10 feet square. Mj' bed, my 
seat, is a straw tick covered with my blankets and supported on tent- 
poles, themselves resting on four uprights. On the other side is the 
bed of Quartermaster Sergeant Frank Hriggs. Both beds foot toward 
the entrance. Between and at their head stands our table, before it 
a stationary stool, while from the ridge-pole depends a horizontal bar 
whereon are hung our knapsacks, haversacks, canteens, sashes and my 
sword. This last descends to me hereditarily from the previous in- 
cumbent. This is my home, and I enjoy far better health and spirits 
than in the shelter and comfort I have always experienced heretofore. 
In all beside, relating to mind or body, the comparison fails. Thus 
one great purpose of my undertaking is successful beyond expecta- 
tion, 

I have also noticed a vast improvenient in the quantity and 
quality of my "grub" since T began to mess with the non-commis- 
sioned staff. But not a day passes that I do not long to be home for 



85 

a while. As Tlianksgiviug draws near, this desire increases, but 

most vainly. We too shall celebrate as we can, and in the evening I 

shall attend a ball to be given within the lines, if I am invited, but I 

shall not be at home. We intend to have a splendid time, and my 

next letter will give you the details. I am now called to form the 

line for dress parade, and after supper will continue. 

Friday evening. 

You are probably on the way to evening meeting. Eemember 

me there. Last Sunday I listened to the parting discourse of our 

Chaplain, and the second I had ever heard from him. Sunday eve I 

attended prayer-meeting at the 7th Mich. My friend of the Regiment 

left for his native State about a week ago. * * Hereafter direct 

letters, papers and packages. Sergeant Major, 19 Mass. Vols., Camp 

Benton, near Poolesville. 

E. M. N. 

Four Harvard graduates were at this time in tlie 19th Massa- 
chusetts—Major Henry ^Jackson How, class of 1859; Assistant 
Surgeon Josiah Newell Willard, class of 1857 ; Capt. George Wel- 
lington Batcheldev, class of 1859; Sergeant Major Edgar Marshall 
Newcomb, class of 1860. On one occasion, at least, as we learn 
from Correspondent Knights, the delightful melody of " Fair 
Harvard" w^as played by the band. "We, the Colonel and staff, 
have been serenaded by the band, and as the parting cadence of 
'Fair Harvard' died away beneath the moonlight, I must confess 
that tears would come to my eyes ; nor could I force them back, 
even at the ringing strains of the ' Star Si)angled Banner.'/' 



THANKSGIVING DAY IN CAMP. 

The observance of this festival at Camp Benton is described 
l>y Newcomb in the followang extract from a letter written to his 
father on Nov. 23, 1861 : 

The programme for the day was excellent, but ill-performed. 
The dining and dancing hall, which should have been finished the 
night before, was not ready till 5 P. M. of the 21st. Therefore the 
exhibitions intended to amuse the men were postponed. However, 
the officers and invited guests to the number of one hundred sat 
down to dinner. With my usual fortune I arrived as the last seat 
was taken, and when at last room had been made and I flourished my 
knife over turkey and potatoes preparatoiy to dining. Col. Hinks 



36 

arose to speak, and of course all gustatory exercises was at an end. 
With becoming patience I waited till toasts and speeches were ended 
and the assembly dismissed. But the victuals were stone cold and a 
violent colic followed. In the evening we had a ball. The ladies 
invited from Baltimore were Ijeautiful, the music excellent ; but a 
friend delivering me letters from Charles, Leila and Mother, I bolted 
incontinently from the room to "my home." 'Twas my Thanksgiving 
dinner indeed, and let no one, even my constant brother Charlie, think 
for a moment that letters any rarer or shorter could be pleasanter. 

At)out 2 next A. M. the assembly dissolved, not a few the worse 
for champagne and sherry, which tiowed like water all the afternoon 
and evening. ISText day we formed a hollow square to witness the 
climbing of a greased pole after $5. Many were the aspirants, but 
ten feet was the utmost limit of their skill and endurance. Next fol- 
lowed a race in bags, where the racer was not even permitted the use 
of his arms. The experiment was most successful in raising the 
laughter of the crowd, as the poor contestants hopped and fell and 
rolled helplessly in the inexorable "gunnies." A foot-ball game be- 
tween the two wings of the Keg't was projected but not executed. 

The wagon which conveyed some of our guests to Adamstown 
returned last evening after 1 liad retired, and the pattering rain 
warning me of wet feet on the morrow made me think of the box. 
In the morning I hastened out, and to my joyful surprise received it, 
four weeks less two days after it left home. I was most grateful for 
the numberless gifts and delicacies your care had provided. Only one 
apple was spoiled. The boots were all I could wish as to size and 
quality. Manning and myself were duly thankful for the pistols, so 
exquisite the workmanship, so delicate the bore, so light yet so tasteful ; 
Avith the sermons, 'pamphlets and notes from Mother, Leila and Charles, 
The India rubbers I wore at guard-mounting, the calfskins I now 
have on, as well as the glazing which protects a cap once dark blue, 
now pale red with exposure to snow and rain. 

I have received part of my pay, and will forward it by a friend 
in a few days. I expect the rest daily, but the Lieutenant's pay I was 
told accrued to my clerkship has dwindled from IS^IOO to i^ that sum. 
It makes no difference to me so long as I have more than enough, but 
I am only sorry to have raised false expectations by premature infor- 
mation. It is yet uncertain, though improbable, that we go into 
winter quarters. I should laugh if Ed. Hall were confined for the 
next few months to a fortress, and the 19th sent into Secessia, con- 
quering and to conquer. Tell Mother not to fear for my safety, for 
my position in line of battle is not as before in the front rank, but 



eight paces in rear of the file-closers on the exti'eme left. * * Let 
everything be paid for out of my wages, remembering how you would 
prize the feeling of independence yourself. 

While I write, the drums are beating the dead-march to the pla}^- 
ing of the band. Another, and the third since we came to Camp 
Benton, is carried to his last home, away from kindred, deprived of 
even a religious service, for the Chaplain is away. His company 
follow him to the grave, he is lowered to the rolling of muffled drums, 
earth falls on the coffin as eight comrades and a corporal fire three 
volleys over the grave,— and then, leave him for the bright careless- 
ness of life again. It sickens me to live in such an atmosphere. Man 
lives and dies like a brute. And now the company is marching back 
to the tune of " Yankee Doodle," and a son of Erin chopping wood 
before the tent-door remarks, " That fellow is in his grave." We are 
summoned to Dress Parade, and informing you that Capt. Schmitt 
and Lieut. Lowell are at home on furloughs, I bid you good bye. 

Edgar. 

The name of the deceased soldier was John Fitzgerald, Bv 
referring to the record of a similar event which occurred about 
six montlis later, it will be seen that Newcomb's reflections on 
the military funeral were not in ^ain. 

Correspondent Knights describes the Thanksgiving festival 
as follows : 

Nov. 23, 186L 

Of all the anomalies in this war for the flag, none appears so 
striking as the recent celebration of our annual Thanksgiving. 
Reveille was beat amid the firing of a national salute by the 
batteries of the Brigade ; the bands afterwards performing at 
Head-quarters, accompanied by salvos of artillery. Tlie boys 
had an appetite for the dinner of turkey and fixings generously- 
provided for them. They had been watching anxiously the flock 
of one hundred and fifty gobblers which had been fattening in 
the field for some days ; and to these were added as many more 
from private sources. A military concert and ball in tlie evening- 
was the grand affair of tlie day. Carpenters and sail-makers had 
erected in front of Head-quarters a pavilion forty feet by thirty- 
five, witli retiring rooms and a refreshment saloon attached. The 
fair guests who graced the assembly were invited, and came, to 
the number of forty from Baltimore — a distance of seventy-five 



38 

miles. After such a proof of loyalty, it would certainly be unjust 
to say that the Baltimore belles are not for the Union. "Taps" 
were siispended by special order, and it was not until first cock- 
crowing that the camp was still. Thanksgiving Day of the year 
of our Lord, 1861, had been in the camp of the Nineteenth Reg- 
iment, Mass. Vols., an eminently gay and festive occasion. But 
who of us would dare look forward to another siich as this? 

Camp Bekton, 

* Monday eve., Nov. 25, 1861. 
Dearest Sister: 

After an almost perfect rest of two weeks, in the necessary ab- 
sence of drill before Thanksgiving, I am somewhat tired tonight from 
an afternoon drill of 2% hours. Last night we had the first snow- 
storm of the season ; nothing severe, however. The spare time of 
today has been spent in greasing boots, oiling gun, and sewing on 
buttons, of which I am now in need. * * And now as to the box. 
The boots tit so well that before Sunday night I had worn holes in 
each stocking, and now my feet are sore. Of the eatables, none can 
I at present eat, except the crackers ; though everything has been 
tasted. Apples and soft crackers cannot be found here. Sardines, 
however, are plenty at 2.5 and 50 cents per box. The bundle has not 
yet arrived. As my two blankets proved insufficient protection after 
leaving Manning, the Adjutant furnished me with a comforter the 
ladies of Salem had sent to suffering volunteers, and every night 1 
bless those ladies, as I enjoy their gift. 

You especially, though all the family more generally, must feel 
lonesome that the little Lieut, has gone, and I greatly wish I were 
with you to comfort and cheer you now. Yet how fortunate that, 
instead of a sudden and hurried departure, you were permitted to be 
gradually weaned, as it were, that the great burden of separation 
might gradually fall upon you. Somehow as I think of you all, I 
cannot feel lonely, though associating familiarly with not a man in 
the camp, except him whose occasional visits are brief and hurried. 
I enjoy imaging you around the table, or the fire, or the family altar, 
and I am never lonely. To you matters are different. You can never 
tell how we are situated, or where we are, but yet somewhat of that 
same fancy which so blesses me in leisure moments cannot but amuse 
you, if you will abstract yourself from home and self. But a higher 
and holier joy lies in this — that we are children of a common Father, 
and each engaged in his Father's business, though in different apart- 
ments of the same liome. The harmony in our thoughts, and feelings, 



39 

and purposes, and affections, is a bond which is stronger than separa- 
tion, or distance, or life itself. 

I have done up my Algebra as a present for Charlie; the shoes in 
which I did all my marching and drilling as a Corporal; and stockings 
which with the shoes were on the march up the river, and on Harri- 
son's Island the night of Oct. i!lst. My love to all. 

Edgar. 

P. S. Your letters was the most grateful and beneficial of all the 
contents of the box. 

Next come jtortions of letters (including a poem) from Cor- 
respondent Knights. The first is written sliortly before leaving 
Cam]) Benton. 

Camp Bextox, Dec. 3. 

The 19th Massachusetts has gained a reputation hereabouts 
for almost every military virtue, and it is a matter of great pride 
to us, of course. I found, too, while at home, tliat to be one of 
the 19th was an " open sesame " to every circle. We have re- 
ceived marching orders. The regiment will move tomorrow 
morning at eight o'clock, via Edwards Ferry and canal boat to 
Seneca Mills. "The line of the Potomac, from Great Falls to 
Seneca IMills (14 miles) is to be entrusted to the guard of tlie 19 
Reg't, Mass. Vols., Col. E. W. Ilinks." So reads the order. 



CAMP NEAR MUDDY BRANCH, SENECA, MD. 

Dec 9, 1861. 

Camp Benton is no longer "ours." We left it a monument, 
so long as its landmarks shall remain, of the military genius, the 
ingenuity and, perseverance of the officers and men of the Mass. 
19th. Its well-determined lines, its spacious streets, its curiously- 
constructed ovens and underground furnaces, its nicely-thatched 
stables and log-houses — all bear testimony to the versatile skill of 
the men of the Old Bay State. We are hardly established in our 
new quarters. The Colonel has his Head-c|uarters in an old but 
not inconvenient house, where we manage to make ourselves com- 
fortable in this vicinage of mist and malaria. The three companies 
on picket, the details for extra duty as wood-choppers and builders 
in the construction of the block-houses, aiul the necessary quarters- 
o-uard exhaust all of the effective force in the regiment. 



40 

Just in front of our lines, on the crest of the undulating 
swells that diversify the face of this section, at the foot of a cluster 
of spruce trees, that shade it from the glow of the hot noon-time, 
is an enclosure, and within its rustic fence lately lay the remains 
of Oliver Younger, Jr., 12th Mass. Vols. The ground is still oc- 
cupied by another member of the same regiment. Their bodies 
rested side by side. Yesterday was most delightful, almost a 
summer's day, and as 1 stood at the color-line, looking in that 
direction, the little burial ground in the midst of the camp sug- 
gested the following : 

YONDER IS HEAVEN. 
Under the shadow of a clump of spruces, 

A rustic paling doth the spot enclose, 
Where, worn and weary with life's various uses, 

Two tired soldiers in their rest repose. 

The moss-f;Town branches, to the skies uprcachinti; 

Their weird bare arms all desolate and si'^j', 
Seem ever to the soul this lesson teaching : 

" Yonder is heaven ; j'onder, too, the way." 

Yonder is found no pauoply of battle, 
No brilliant trappings and no gleaming steel, 

No war of cannon and no muskets' rattle. 
No tramp of horsemen and no rumbling wheel. 

Yonder is heard no watcher's sad entreating, 

There is no sob, or tear, or mourner's cry ; 
On yonder plains no gallant heart is beating, 

Longing to live, yet praying still to die. 

Yonder is Peace ! The setting sunlight glancing 
Athwart the slabs witli gold and crimson ray. 

Inscribed thereon, in words of light entrancing: 
"Yonder is Heaven — This is but the way." ' 

The new camj) was situated near Muddy Branch, in the 
vicinity of Seneca, Md., and not far from the Potomac. In the 
following letters intei-esting particulars are given. It will be 
noticed that our gallant soldier refuges to acce])t " defensive 
armor. " 

Camp near Muddy Branch, 

Dec. 15, 18G1. 
Dear Brother: 

Since last Sunday I have received letters from yourself. Father, 
Mother, Stanley and Gill^crt Wcl)l)er. While I thank you for your 




'^toj^AA-tMJCJifcsaBaiaf^jfcjB?!.!! aiiwm ■■ 



41 

kind interest for my comfort and safety, I decline all kinds of defen- 
sive armor as useless and cumbersome. I do not yet feel destined to 
a violent death in this war, but if you wish to spend 8 dollars on my 
account, give them to the Bible Society. My tent is pitched, though 
yet unoccupied. I am waiting for a stove which I expect tomorrow. 
Meanwhile I sleep on the tloor of head-quarters, but I hope this night 
is the last, as I wish to be alone in " my home." Around the edges 
are laid logs to keep out the wind, and logs in two tiers form a pen 
which I have filled with hay for a bed. * * Our regiment was in- 
creased day before yesterday by V22 recruits from Mass., commanded 
by Capt. C. U. Devereux, brother of our Lieut. Col. His men are 
fine-looking, but appear most ludicrously raw to us veterans of four 
months. As a natural concomitant they think themselves "some 
sojer," and have away of expostulating when they believe themselves 
right, which is strange to us who know nothing but our orders. A few 
jiights ago Manning came from an old camp, and spent the night with 
me. He is still engaged as clerk at Brigade Head-quarters. AVe have 
no drills now, as 8-10 of our men are on picket at the river, and off 
cutting timber for our log houses. The Colonel has sent for his famil}^ 
and doesn't expect to march before February next. Every Sabbath I 
wish I were at home. However, those now spent are far pleasanter 
than previous ones. * * Those who have returned to us from fur- 
loughs declare themselves glad to return to their work here, matters 

at liome were so dull. Now good-night. 

Edgar. 

Camp near Muddy Branch. 
Dec. 22, 18()1. 
Dear Brother: 

This letter will be mailed tomorrow, so as to arrive home Christ- 
mas. Please consider it a present — as all I can give now. My own 
presence I must bestow elsewhere. For months to come, both duty 
and interest will probably require me to be in the camp of the 19th. 
* * Today there has been no religious service except the prayer on 
dress parade, and this afternoon I found time to go to the river, about 
ten minutes walk from here. Our pickets extend for twelve miles 
along the canal, their mud huts being clearly visible from the Virginia 
side of the river. Looking over into Secessia one sees only the ordi- 
nary landscape of hill and dale and forest, interspersed with houses 
and cattle — not the least sign of war. A stranger here would never 
suspect the presence of a body of soldiers, much less of two armies. 
Our block houses, three in number, are to occupy as many bluffs, 
each commanding long reaches of the river and country on either side. 



42 

We all long for an opportunity to cross, and so surely as Mc'Call's 
Division, only seven miles below us on the Virginia shore, succeeds 
in driving the rebels further up, we march to hold the conquest. At 
present, however, I am not in good marching order, my new boots 
had worn the skin from a small place on the inside of the right ankle 
before we left Camp Benton. On the march I wore the new boots. 
The sore festered, and not till yesterday was I able to wear them again. 
Weeks will perhaps pass before my lameness is at an end. * * The 
weather here is chilly but pleasant. We have had no rain for two 
weeks. My tent is warmed by a stove of sheet iron, costing me the 
sum of .^2.50. Tell Father, Mr. Prentiss is now Quartermaster Sergeant. 
I mess wtth him daily, and no one in camp lives better than we. It is 
now supper time — enough for the present. 

Supper is ended, my work for the day finished, and 1 may devote 
the evening to reading and writing. The amount of my business may 
be imagined when it is known that I have not yet had time to read 
the Harper's you sent me, or the book on rifles. The business is quite 
varying from day to day, and uncertain in its extent. Now I have 
half a day to myself, besides plenty of time for exercise; again, I am 
occupied the whole day and into the night. It has begun to rain with 
a good prospect of three or four days' continuance. 

Hoping this may arrive in time to make 3'our dinner relish better, 
and wishing you all a most Merry Christmas, I must close. I shall 
enjoy myself on that day not less, perhaps, than last year. 

Edgar. 

Correspondent Kniglits briefly describes the situation on 
Christmas, 1801. 

Casip near Muddy Branch, Md. 

Deo. 25, 1861. 

Cliristmas in camp ! It has its merry times, tiiough there be 
no Santa Clans to ]iop into its tajic-tied tent-doors, and doAvn its 
sooty stove-pipes. So far as tlie weather goes, nature has favored 
our Christmas time exceedingly. Tlie dismal, drizzly rain of the 
last day or two has given place to a clear, bracing atmosjjhere, 
which reminds us of New England Octobers, The night air is 
chill, and the teeth of tlie shivering sentry chatter as he walks his 
beat; but the sun comes up from behind the pines and streams, 
with a certain warmth, before I hear the drums at "^-derly hour" 
along the color line; and the Cor]K)ral calls us with a "Merry 
Christmas, gentlemen." 



43 

A NEW YEAR'S LETTER EROM CAMP. 

Camp near Seneca, 

Jan. 1, 1862. 
Dearest Sister: 

For several days I have been seeking an opportunity to write 
home, but the business of the closing year has prevented it till now. 
* * The eatables are not yet all gone. One piece of mince-pie 
remains. Apples, chocolate, jelly and nuts are not half devoured. 
Don't send another box by express, for I am fully provided with 
every thing needful. The Colonel's wife and child, with whom he 
goes home in about two weeks, are to stop at our Hd. Qrs. I have 
not yet been introduced, though I see Mrs. Hinks almost daily. 

Yesterday I went to Poolesville on some law business for Alonzo 
Alden, riding in all .30 miles in a team without springs, and over ex- 
ecrable roads. I was unsuccessful in finding the party, and moreover, 
was left by the teams, and walked over 2 miles before I overtook them. 
At 9 P. M. our mess had a supper, at which the Colonel and his staff 
were present, and all manner of luxuries including egg-nog and lem- 
onade-punch, graced the board. Though I havn't lost confidence in 
ni)' own will, yet I have often felt (not thought only) that the total 
abstinence pledge has a worth to myself unappreciated before, and 
were it not for this I could hardly resist the temptations to imbibe 
most palateable concoctions of liquors on our frequent " special 
occasions. " 

You are doubtless curious to know about our mess. It consists of 
eleven. The cooking is done by a professed cook, and superintended 
by Prentiss. We have flap-jacks, butter and molasses, with beefsteak 
or chickens, sometimes pie or rice for dinner. This is the usual bill 
of fare, but so varied that every thing tastes good. Nor do we pay 
anything but what is made up to us by surplus rations. Coft'ee and 
tea were my daily drink in Co. F, but when I was taken from active 
to sedentary life I found they injured me. Supper is ready. Farewell. 

8 P. M. 

Beefsteak, potatoes and toast. The weather today has been ex- 
ceedingly warm. The night comes on with a mighty wind, which in 
my absence scattered the papers upon the floor. Thus do I account ' 
for divers spots looking like tobacco-juice, but which are only Mary- 
land alluvium. Every cord of the tent is strained, and the clattering 
and flutter is as great in proportion as that of the "Admiral" in a 
storm at sea. The wind blows my candle, joggles my desk, and makes 
such a noise I can hai'dly think. Gen. Lander in a couple of weeks 
will go up the river. Manning goes with the General. I am sorry we 



44 

are to be separated, but it is best in some way. I liave heard of Ed. 
Hall's final settlement on that clump of sand, Ship Island, and grate- 
ful am I that I am not there with him, with such imperfect means of 
enjoyment and communication with home. However, he will not re- 
main there long, and his happy disijosition will triumph over the sand 
heap and the muddy brine. * * I hear there has been some talk of 
visiting me. Our camp is only a few minutes distant from the Ohio 
and Chesapeake Canal, Muddy Branch Lock. You can also come by 
stage from Washington to Darnestown, and a team which brings the 
mail daily from that place to camp will also carr}^ you. But if any of 
you are coming to see me, let me know both the time and way of your 
coming, that I may find you, which will be far easier than your find- 
ing me. * * I hope you never feel lonely and sad. We who have 
given up all never feel so, and you who have so much left should be 
very happ}'. The present is cheerful enough, while the good time 
coming, not far distant let us hope, will be how much happier than 
now. I was never happier in my life (and the more you think of it 
the stranger it will seem). Why then should anybody be less happy 
than myself '? It is as much our duty as our privilege to enjoy our- 
selves ; and in this duty, if in no other, obedience brings its own 
reward. 

Capt. Kice is soon to go home on a furlough, and Lieut. Kice 
with several others of our Kegimeut are ordered home on recruiting 
service. You see how long a letter I have sent you, and it would be 
longer under different circumstances. Now when you answer, don't 
stint yourself to filling out a small sheet of note paper, but give me 

enough to feed on for a while. 

Brother, Edgak. 

Mr. Jolin L. Ivobiuson has kindly allowed an artist-friend, 
Mr. F. H. C Woolley, to make a sketch from the original photo- 
graph of the " Camp near Mudd\- I^ranch." Only a small jiortion 
of the camp is represented, and the artist lias not attempted to 
re-produce all the soldiers who appear in the photograph. Ser- 
geant Major Newcomb holds a paper which is tlie morning report 
of the regiment. His features do not appear distinctly. 

Camp near Seneca, 

Jan. 19, 1862. 
Dear Mother: 

^llow me to introduce Mr. Bishop, First Lieutenant of the Tiger 
Zouaves of our regiment — the bearer of this note and of two photo- 
graphs of our Head-quarters. A description may not be uninteresting. 



45 

Begiiiuing on the right: the two small tents contain our ammunition; 
the wall-tents are the Quartermaster's; the bell-tent contains clothing, 
as also do the boxes before it. The house has four rooms — an otiice 
and reception room below; a store room and chamber for the Colonel 
and wife above. Figure No. 1 is Knights, clerk at Head-quarters; 
No. 2, Adjutant Keynolds; 3, Lieut. Bishop, then Officer of the Day; 
4, clerk with Quarter-master; o, Prentiss, Quarter-master Sergeant; 
6, Dr. Dyer, Surgeon; 7, Quarter-master Shaw; 8, an Orderly Sergeant; 
9, clerk; 10, sentry; 11^ Sergeant ^lajor with Morning Report book. 
The remainder are Head-quarters servants or sentries, till on the ex- 
treme left, with drawn sword Lieut. White of a detachment of Cavalry 
stationed here. His horse is dimly seen; owing not so much to the 
quality of government oats, as to the restlessness of the animal. In a 
feAv days J will write again. 

Your loving Son, Eugak. 

Keceived since last letter home letters from yourself, Charlie and 
Sister. Papers from yourself and Chai-lie and Stanley. 

At tlie close of tl»o following lettei-, and also in otlior com- 
munications, Edgar refers to Ids niotlicr's un])leasant dreams 
concerning lior soldier-hoy. Wei-e these visions providential fore- 
warnings of coming son-ow ? 

Camp near Seneca, 

.Jan. 21, 1802. 
Dear Bkotiiek: 

Yesterday I sent home by I^t. Bishop '-of ours" a couple of pho- 
tographs of oui- Head-quai-ters. The establishment of the artist was 
on these grounds when we first came, though the artist himself was 
absent. I did not know of his return till I saw him behind his instru- 
ment on the day he took the aforesaid impression. Therefore I 
omitted getting a nearer view of his machine. He left here the next 
day; therefore I wa15 unable to sit afterward. A magnifying glass 
will disclose the features of the persons more perfectly, and a ke}- may 
be made by tracing the figures in transparent paper, numbering and 
naming them. If a convenient opportunity offers I shall send home 
my gun and equipments. The gun is taken to pieces and boxed up 
with cartridge-box, cap-box, &c. Though your curiosity may be strong 
to see the gun put together, my own preference is that it remain as 
you receive it till my return. Tell Mother that I don't at present 
wish her or any of the family to visit me; but if she should raise the 
curtain of my tent, her welcome would be hearty enough to give her 



46 

complete satisfaction. I am sorry Mother's dreams of me are so fre- 
quently unpleasant. 

In tlie next letter, which contains not a trace of empty boast- 
ing, the Sergeant Major artlessly confesses that his impetuous 
spirit Avas aroused by the echoes of a distant conflict, and he was 
eager to take part in the action. The brave warrior is always 
thus inspired by the music of the guns. 

AVednesday evening, Jan. 22. 

After a sumptuous supper of fried and baked fresh haddock, I sit 
down to write you. A fire is roaring in the stove, and everything is 
as cheerful as can well be in our canvas dormitory. I begin with 
thanking Stanley for the confectionery he sent me so long ago. I 
think the fisheries must have been generally unsuccessful, there oc- 
curred so many imitation codfish in my two pounds of 'candy. * * 
The weather which for the last week has been manifest in constant 
rain, reducing the ground in the vicinity of my tent to a mortar-bed, 
strove to clear up matters last night by a snowstorm, but ineffectually. 
Today there have been attempts at a gale. In vain ; the clouds will 
not break up their meeting. 

Almost every day, certainly every third day, we hear the distant 

roar of cannon, and of musketry. Oh, how nervous it makes me to 

listen, as I did three days ago, to the continuous discharge of cannon 

and rifles for hours, and know that there was fighting there. Such are 

the only times I am impatient to go forward. I took the opportunity 

not long ago to call on the Chaplain, and two hours were passed very 

pleasantly in religious discourse. Several hours a day can now be 

devoted to reading, and the small library at Head-quarters furnishes 

matter for thought. My visitors laugh at my library, consisting of 

three books — " Holy ]5ible" between " Infantry Tactics" and "Army 

Regulations." Good night. 

Edgak. 

* Camp near Seneca, 

Jan. 24, 18(52. 
Dearest Sister: 

Know that I have conscientious scruples against writing home 
more frequently than once a week. My time is too valuable ; my 
leisure too small for such light employment. But a letter from Charlie 
received tonight, in which he mentions that folks at home are dolor- 
ously affected in view of my change of residence, inclined me to write, 



47 

and as I betook myself to the task the uuexpected sight of my own 
initials, stamped on this sheet by your own affectionate love, fully de- 
cided me. The stamp was one I had not noticed before, and it is 
grateful as beautiful. 

First then, as to going to Ship Island. A week ago the rumor 
first reached us that Col. Hinks, promoted to Brig. C4en., was to take 
the 15th, 19th and 20th Mass. and 7th Mich. Regt's to Ship Island. 
At once imagination transferred the scene of the severest struggles 
and brightest victories to the mouth of the Mississippi. We were not 
to go to Annapolis, however, for embarkation before Feb. 1. Under 
these circumstances I wrote my last. But though this time rumor 
started from Hd. Qrs., it Avas baseless as ever; the bubble exploded, 
and today its place is supplied by a fresher one, namely: We are soon 
to go across the Potomac. The roar of McCall's cannon daily grows 
louder, and from the hill-tops we have seen their smoke ; and at the 
same time long trains of Avagons disappearing behind the distant hills, 
as the rebels move southward before them. As you know, I could 
not now obtain leave of absence even for a week. Col. Hinks soon 
returns to lead his lieg't (not his Brigade,) and we hope to acquire 
other laurels than for making a good retreat from Harrison's Island 
and building block-houses on Maryland bluffs. Tonight while I write, 
not two miles from the Virginia shore, a body of 500 determined men 
could cross, capture officers, men, ammunition and Quartermaster's 
stores, and make good their escape with their booty; for Ave are the 
only lieg't on this side within ten miles, and scattered all along the 
river-bank. But Secesh either don't know our helplessness, or don't 
care to make the dash at us— probably the latter. I must end this 
letter and betake myself to Morning Report and Guard Detail; and, 
after Avork, to Plutarch whose "lives" I am trying to digest. Good 

Niuht. Is that word as sweet to hear from me as ever ? 

Edgak. 

In February, 1862, NeAveonib Avas agreeably disai)pointea by 
receiving permission to return liome on a short fui lough. The joy 
AVith Avhicli he was greeted by relatives and friends cannot be ex- 
pressed in words. With a single exception it Avas the last time 
that any of them saAv him alive. His cordial greeting and noble 
bearing can never be fo)-gotten. At this time he Avas the picture 
of liealth. On parting Avith him then, some of us could not 
believe that it was for the last time on eaith. 

Soon after returning to military duty he Avrites as folloAvs : 



48 

CA3ir NEAR Seneca, 

March 3, 1862. 
Dear Sister: 

Since my last letter I have received letters from Mother and 
3-ourself up to Feb. 28. I would have written yesterday, but part of 
the day was occupied in moving our tents to a healthier situation. 
As you know, all of Banks' and Sedgewick's (formerly Stone's) Divi- 
sions, except our ]5rigade, have crossed the river, and perhaps before 

my next, we too shall tread the soil, but as yet we have no 

marching ordei'S. 

One of the strange experiences of my life occurred day before 

yesterday. Our field officers had a few hours before received swords 

whicli an uncle of Lieut. Dodge had imported from France. As 1 was 

standing at Hd. Qrs. the gentleman entered and was introduced to the 

ofKcers. I remembered at once having seen him before, and in a pause 

of the conversation asked him if I had not met him in Paris. " Bless 

me, yes," said he, and rising shook my hand most heartily. He proved 

to be Mr. Clark, the clerk of the American ex-Minister at Paris, Avho 

so interested himself in me, and wrote me once or twice after my 

return. As a traveller I parted from him in Paris a little more than 

18 months ago, one bright autumn afternoon ; and to meet him again 

as a soldier on the Potomac at military Hd. Qrs., about the same hour 

of a gusty winter's day. Yesterday we parted, and he promised 

another rendezvous at Richmond. * * * I never had an experience 

which in memor}^ seemed more like a dream than my visit home, and 

never parted from friends (myself to leave them) when the farewell 

was to me so sad and painful. I do not think I shall be many months 

out of the Avay if I prophesy that 1 shall spend next New Year's day 

at home. 

Edgar. 

I re-open this letter to mention the reception of Mother's letter 

M'ith Jamie's flag — a splendid triumph — and newspapers, Advertiser, 

Journal and Congregationalist. 

Perhaps Edgar's prophesy was fulfilled in a very true sense. 



FAREWELL TO MUDDY BIJANCH. 

Ca3ip near Seneca, 

McH. 8, 1802. 
Dear Brother: 

Here we still lie in the nuid, though your papers have it that we 
have crossed the rivei-. Xever since I enlisted have I felt so im- 



49 

patient to move. We hear that all the armies of the north are moving, 
except that alone which has suffered the sorest defeats and is most 
eager to avenge them. At Big Bethel, Bull Run and Ball's Bluff, the 
army on the banks of the Potomac have been worsted without the 
compensation of a single victory of importance. In addition, Banks' 
Division have all crossed, and ever}' Brigade in our Division but ours. 
General Lander has died of his wounds received long ago, and yester- 
day Col. Hinks sent for Manning to return to his company. If he 
returns he will experience a gi'eat vicissitude of fortune, having fallen 
at once from his easy ofRce-life, the society of officers and gentlemen, 
and the prospect of immediate promotion to Lander's staff, — down to 
the simple fare and brutal society and hard usage of a Corporal. I 
heartily sympathize with him and hope it may not be so. During the 
past week we have raised an immense tent, some sixty feet square, 
and the Chaplain jjrojects great and varied amusements which I hope 
may be realized. To-morrow we shall probabl}' hold our first service 
there. A few days ago the non-commissioned officers of the Eegiment 
received their warrants. I will forward mine as soon as possible, 
which may not be for many weeks. Manning wrote me that the car- 
penter whom he had hired to make the box for my gun and equipments 
made it too small, and the Quartermaster forbade his making another. 
So my treasure which I had supi^osed long ago boxed up and ready for 
shipment, remains as it was the da}' of my promotion. It is to be for- 
warded to Camp at some future day, and before the war is ended it 
will probably be at home. Thus far only can I promise. 

Rumor is at last true. The order from Head-quarters has come, 
that we hold ourselves in readiness to move at the shortest notice. 
Probably before next Wednesday, possibly to-morrow, we are to bid 
good-bye to " Camp near Muddy Branch." 

Edgar. 

The marches of the Nineteentli Mass., from the time of 
leaving Muddy Branch until the regiment took cars for "Washing- 
ton, are recorded in XcAvcomb's lettej- dated March 30, 1862. 



AT W^ASHINGTON AGAIN. 

Washington, Maech 26, '62. 
Dear Leila: 

We arrived in Washington yesterday, and rumor has it that to-day 
we leave this place to go into camp at Alexandria for the present. 
You may write me letters up to the last of this month with a good 
chance of my receiving them. I spent my last cent this morning for 



50 

breakfast, and the Regiment is played out as regards money, so that I 
shall probably be unable to borrow any, and for the present must live 
on Uncle Sam alone. We are stopping in the same building where 
we stopped last August. The lodging is however, inside instead of 
outside the building, and our living vastly superior to what it was be- 
fore. The bread is fresh, but the coffee is of doubtful purity, and the 
cold tongue of undoubted age. 

I received five letters on the day after mailing my last — from 
Mother, yourself, Charlie, Gilbert and Deacon Hoyt; also a short note 
from James, besides Congregation alist. Gazette, &c. My trunk was 
left behind in the storehouse of the 19th, at Harper's Ferry. The 
details of our march from Muddy Branch till our arrival at our desti- 
nation, whatever that may be, will be given as soon as 1 can find leisure 
and comfort. 

Mother is probably this morning in Troy, comforting poor Grand- 
father, and you are the mistress of the household. 

The delays to which we are everywhere subject, whenever we are 
to ride instead of march, are the most vexatious things of a soldier's 
experience. Long before this we might have arrived where it is de- 
signed to send us, if contractors &c. were half as earnest in their 
work as the men. 

But good-bye and love to all. Affectionately, 

Eddie. 



ON THE POTOMAC. DESTINATION UNKNOWN. 

Sunday evening, Mch. 30, 1862. 

On the Potomac. 
Dear Brother: 

The time which for the present I call my own I devote to writing 
home; but a steamer crowded with 900 souls, and a small cabin over- 
flowing with shoulder-straps, are not conducive to concentration or 
continuity of thought. Ever since a week ago next Tuesday we have 
travelled hither and thither with little intermission. On that eventful 
morning at 8 we started from Camp near Muddy Branch. How we 
got ahead of the other Regiments of our Brigade, and crossed on the 
pontoon bridge over the Potomac at Harper's Ferry, two hours before 
the rest, you have been informed before. Tuesday, Thursday and 
Friday I bivouacked, often suffering from cold after the fatigue of 
marching all day. Near Charlestown, which we reached Wednesday 
afternoon, I slept in the barn of the rebel Gen. Hunter, and enclosed 
a relic from his house in one of my letters. At this bivouac the men 



51 

of the Brigade killed several hogs and sheep. The inhabitants com- 
plained, and the officers paid ,^60 as their share of damages. * * 
On the march to Perry villa few families showed the Union flag. We 
heard that Banks had entered Winchester and we were ordered back, 
our services being no longer necessary. Our return march was only 
diversified by a second march through Charlestown. People looked 
on in sullen silence, one woman cheering for Jeff. Davis. Owing to 
fatigue I did not visit the place of John Brown's execution, but we 
passed the jail and court-house, scenes of his trial and confinement. 
Saturday noon we reached Bolivar, about one mile from Harper's 
Ferry, and quartered in the deserted houses. The Ferry is situated 
in the angle formed b}^ the confluence of the Potomac and the Shen- 
andoah, so famed for beauty. Lofty hills form the banks of either 
river. Along the Maryland side runs the Chesapeake & Ohio canal 5 
between the Potomac and the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. On the 
Virginia side lies the Ferry on the hillside; and on an adjoining hill, 
Bolivar. These hills were occupied by both rebels and Unionists in 
attack or defence ; while the inhabitants fled to save themselves and 
their propert}^ A few hundred only remain, while cannon balls and 
shells scattered here and there, and houses pierced by random shot, 
attest the former presence of hostile armies. In the Ferry all the 
government buildings have been reduced to ruins, and their shattered 
walls looked miserably sad. The engine house, where for days John 
Brown defied Virginia, is now the prison for rebels. 

All the next week it rained, and the streets, cut up by the constant 
passing of heavy teams, were reduced to a condition rivalling those of 
Muddy Branch. Friday night orders came to be ready to start at day- 
light of Saturday. Reveille beat at 4 A. M., and at 5.30 we were in 
marching order, but after waiting till 10 we were informed that trans- 
portation had not arrived, and disgusted we turned back in-doors and 
rekindled our fires. Saturday and Sunday passed wearily, but in the 
evening of the latter day we were ordered to be in readiness to start 
at 7.30 A. M., Monday, and at that hour we left Bolivar for the Ferry. 
After two hours of tedious waiting we crossed the river on single 
planks placed end to end along the railroad bridge just completed. 
The sleepers were wide asunder, the river was swift, the elevation 
great; but single file, we all crossed in safety. Arrived at Sandy Hook, 
on the the Maryland side, we waited in the cold till 10 P. M. before the 
train an-ived, and when it came we beheld the freight cars as friends 
in which we had travelled before. The officers, however, rejoiced in 
a passenger car, and after a tedious night's travel we arrived in Wash- 
ington Tuesday noon. We lodged at the Soldiers' Rest, and Wednesday 



52 

uoon we marched to a camp ground in the environs. * * In the 
afternoon of Thursday we struck tents, packed wagons, and left camp 
in half an hour after the reception of marching orders. We marched 
down Pennsylvania avenue about 5.30, amid clouds of dust, to the foot 
of Gth street, where we took the steamer North America. * * To-day 
I examined my knapsack and found that some one had appropriated 
my blouse and pants. They were worn out, but 1 had intended to send 
them home as my first unifoim. Moreover our seven days' rations 
were stolen while the cook slept. But such is war, and I feel lucky 
because I do not lose as much as others. Good ni2:ht. 



The following appeared in the Lynn Transcript of January 
19, 1883. 

A UNIQUE MUSICAL FESTIVAL. 

Editor Transcript: — 

Just now there seems to be a revival of interest in matters relat- 
ing to the cause of the Great American Rebellion. Dr. James Freeman 
Clarke began a course of lectures on the Story of Slavexy, in Boston 
on Wednesday evening; and the discourse of Frederick Douglass in 
Odd Fellows' Hall last week, which 7 heard with great pleasure, re- 
minded me of an incident in my own experience during the war, which 
I would like to bi-iefly narrate. It will be remembered that after the 
first great disaster of Bull Run there was a long period of inaction on 
the part of the Arm}^ of the Potomac, of which the country became 
very tired and disgusted. President Lincoln ordered the ai'my to move 
Feb. 22, 18G2. Sumner's Corps, in which I was, moved March 12 from 
its camp at Muddy Branch, up the canal to Harper's Ferry; thence out 
to join Banks' Division at Winchester. When we got near Charles- 
town, about 10 miles beyond Harper's Ferry, we bivouacked, and the 
next morning the whole Division marched through Charlestown and 
right by the foot of the hill where John Brown was hung. Douglass 
said the other night, "John Brown was remembered in song." Cer- 
tainly he was, on the occasion to which I refer. The post of honor 
that day belonged to the 3d Brigade, on the right of which was the 
19th Mass., Col. Hinks. The band struck up the familiar strain — 

"John Brown's bodj' lies moulderiug in the ground, 
His soul goes marching on." 

The whole army took up the song, and all day through the streets 
of the little town tramped 15,000 men singing this memorable refrain. 
Charlestown was thoroughly "secesh," and though coloi-ed folks were 
out in force, no white people could be seen, except peeping through 
their closed blinds. As often happens in the army, we were ordered 
back the next day; and on the countermarch the Charlestowners were 
treated to a "repeat." We dispensed with the formality of an encore. 

J. L. R. 



53 

March 31. 

Still on steamer, our destination unknown. * * Friday morning 
we steamed down the river past Alexandria. The day was delightful, 
and this part of our passage the pleasantest experience of the 19th 
since its enlistment. We passed Mt. Yernon, Aquia Creek, Cockpit 
Point and Fort Washington. A storm of wind arising during the 
night, we put back several miles to Point Lookout. 

Hampton, April 1. 

We are settled here for a few days. Maryland, our home for eight 
months past, is left forever as the camping ground of the 19th. We 
landed at Point Lookout about noon of Saturday, in a snowstorm. 
We took possession of the deserted hotel, for the season does not begin 
till June. To the non-commissioned staff was allotted a cottage of 
two rooms. Barrows [the hospital steward, a son of Prof. Barrows of 
Andover] and myself, found a dinner at a farm house, and Chesapeake 
oysters rapidly disappeared from the smoking dishes. The good lady 
refused compensation, and after a hearty meal we returned to quarters. 
Sunday morning, the storm having abated, we re-embarked and pro- 
ceeded down the river. The shores of the Potomac are neither so 
high, nor cultivated, nor picturesque as those of the Pludson, but the 
river itself is broader and nobler. Monday morning before breakfast 
we reached the Fortress, which Ed. Hall has probably described. 
The Kip Kaps and Sewall's Point were in plain sight, the bay was full 
of shipping of all sizes, shapes and kinds. The Monitor lay at anchor 
a few rods from our stern. She looks exactly as represented in the 
papers. At noon we disembarked and marched over a most tedious 
road, rendered well nigh impassable from the previous rain. The day 
was very hot, and many fell behind on our short march of five miles 
to Hampton. We are now quartered a mile beyond the village. You 
know the rebels burned it before they left, and its appearance is even 
more desolate than that of Harper's Ferry. Houses and churches are 
in.ruins, and soldiers only fill the streets and enliven the picture. 
There are now around here nearly 100,000 men, and eight regiments 
from Massachusetts (the 2d, 7th, 10th, 17th, 18th, 19th, SOth and 22d.) 
How long we remain is of course uncertain. Whether we march in- 
land or are transported south, is equally so. How soon I shall be able 
to write again, or in fact what T have written amid such confusion 
and interruption, 1 cannot tell. Pardon haste, pencil and dirt. 

Your aff. Brother, Ed. 



54 
THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN. 

" He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh a city."— Proverbs XVI, 32. 

The following letter records the death of the "first martyr 
to liberty" in the 19th Mass. 

Camp near Yorktown, 

April 8, 1862. 

Dear Sister: 

You have probably received my letter to Charlie long since, 

hough I cannot remember the day of my mailing it from Hampton. 
One hundred and twenty-six regiments besides numbe rless pieces of 
artillery have been brought together in the vicinity of Fortress 
Monroe. We at length received orders Thursday to start on the mor- 
row with three days' rations. At 7 next A. M. , we gaily started in the 
rear of two Divisions. For hours before we started, Cavalry, Infantry, 
and baggage trains had passed along the road in an unbroken stream, 
impressing one with the vastness of preparations, as only au eye- 
witness can be impressed. Our march was over the sandy road toward 
Big Bethel, and after a day's travel, with frequent halts, we bivouacked 
for the night a mile beyond the town. It had been strongly fortified 
by the rebels, whose pickets evacuated it as the head of our column 
entered, some nine hours before. To eyes no more practiced than ours 
it seemed almost impregnable. Woods and marshes surrounded it, and 
every approach in front and flank was protected by breastworks and 
rifle-pits; but Secesh saw fit to leave, and we quietly took possession. 
Next morning at 5 we started again, and with occasional "double- 
quicks" had soon made five miles; when, after passing some fortifica- 
tions whose strength and size excited the wonder of us all, we halted. 
These earth-works, now becoming very common, are so constructed 
that one plays into the other, so that, the first being stormed, the 
second attacks it as our men pour in. This second is raked by a third, 
and each one successively taken, the garrison retire to support the 
defence of the next. The country being very woody and swampy, 
with many small hills, offers every advantage to the defending party. 
Here we halted during a rain-storm of several hours. Gen'ls. Mc- 
Clellan and Heiutzelman passed us on horseback, as they had done the 
day before. Little Mac is a great favorite, and as he rode along the 
lines, the tumultuous cheering growing gradually and constantly louder 
as he approached, culminating in a deafening roar as he passed, and 
gradually dying away in the distance, showed us at once the extent 
of the line and the enthusiasm of the soldiery under such a leader. 
McClellan is very handsome and evei-y inch a soldier. I never saw 
such an eye. 



55 

The storm had turned the road, which before had been very good, 
to a continuous slough. Our progress therefore was very slow and 
uncomfortable; but about ^% P. m. of Saturday we reached our present 
bivouac. Sunday being pleasant. Barrows and I went to a farm-house 
in the woods to breakfast. The women as we approached stared with 
fright from the windows, and despatched a servant in hot haste to call 
in the men. But we soon won our way into their regards, and break- 
fasted on bread and milk, for which we were expected to pay 75 cents; 
but the hypocrites, who had been so loud in the profession of their 
Union sentiments, let us off with a tax of 50 cents. At noon we 
bathed in a neighboring brook. Yesterday we started with the 20th 
and our Sharpshooters on a reconnoissance. Arrived in a cleared space 
surrounded by woods we heard the command, "Battalion, Halt — 
Prepare to load — Load." Eor the first time we loaded against an 
enemy yet unseen, and the silence in which the order was obeyed 
showed the feelings of the men. One company deployed as skir- 
mishers in our front, while we advanced through the woods a minute 
or two, and finall}' halted behind a Virginia fence. Here we halted 
four hours, while engineers and scouts observed and reported. Some 
of our men advanced a little in front in a series of large fortifications, 
and played away. The rebels answered, and wasted so much ammu- 
nition on the Avoods; I Avent down to see the fun, and saw the batteries 
and the flag of the rebels. The estimated position and strength of the 
rebels having been made, we were ordered to advance and draw the 
enemy's fire, to prove the correctness of the estimate ; and on we 
went, sometimes trying this, sometimes that point, ourselves sheltered 
by the woods, but enabled to see and shoot the rebels as they appeared 
The regiment behaved beautifully; but when the first shell burst over 
our heads as we lay concealed in a gully, a captain started to run for. 
better shelter, and disturbed the men. However, his indiscretion was 
at once corrected. Three men were wounded, one of whom died as 
soon as we reached quarters. It had rained since 11 A. M., and as we 
picked our Avay home at 7 P. M., the water fell in torrents. The mud 
was ankle-deep, and the men had no possible shelter, for we have 
tents only for field and staff. Thanks to BarroAVS, I Avas permitted to 
sleep on the stretcher which bore a wounded man from the field, and 
at the foot of the bed whereon he lay a corpse. Off went boots, 
stockings and pants. I cuddled under a pile of bed-ticks and slept ; 
but toward morning, when rest had relieved my fatigue, I woke to 
think on my strange position. But such is the fortune of Avar, and 
except in Co. D, to which the deceased belonged, all is joyous as ever. 
Oh, that men would think of their state and their destiny. But this 



56 

can be only when they are in full possession of their powers, the very 
season when they feel least their need. When we come to tight, or to 
suffer, or to die, the mind has other work, and rarely indeed can it 
overcome the distractions which surround it. Our first martyr to 
liberty has fallen. To-morrow, or at any rate before this week ends, 
we attack this fortification, and the result of the struggle none can 
foresee. This only is sure. If we meet opposition the fight will be 
very bloody. For myself I fear not, but for the souls who must perish 
there — what can I do ? God only can save. 

All night long it has rained, nor has the storm yet passed over. 
Our clothes are wet after yesterday's and last night's experiences. .My 
boot left behind in Washington has not arrived, perhaps will not; and 
though my hardships are slight in comparison with those of the men, 
I have suffered more since yesterday morning than since I enlisted 
(except perhaps at Ball's Bluff). My love to all. As I write this 
under a rubber blanket supported on stakes, and on the top of a bar- 
rel, you must excuse poor writing and mistakes and all imperfections. 

Edgak. 

Camp Winfield Scott, 

Apr. 26, 1862. 
DearBro.: 

As we go on picket tomorrow, I must write ray weekly letter 
today. * * Yesterday, in obedience to orders, I guided a working 
party of fifty to the batteries, and opened a road through the woods, 
some }i mile in length. This is (on my part) the " first important 
operation of the war." Today, though the rain falls in torrents, I am 
ordered to guide another party to the same place, but they have not 
yet reported and I hope to escape the job. The particulars of Capt. 
Bartlett's accident are as follows : He went into an open field to view 
the enemies' batteries, and while kneeling on the ground with the 
glass in his hands, a ball struck him above the knee, passing down- 
ward and so shattering the joint as to render amputation necessary. 
We all feel sorry, but our life is one of such constant danger that an 
accident creates far less stir here than the news of it at home. This 
morning at 5, we were turned out, from fire occasioned by the 1st Mass- 
taking a rebel rifle pit several miles below us. In a few hours the 
men returned wet through, shortly after I had completed my toilet, 
for I slept so well that not even the heavy firing awoke me. Vague 
rumors of an approaching paymaster, but we are verj^ sceptical. I 
have several times purchased 50 cents worth of eatables with a dollar 
bill yet remaining in my possession, because no one could change it. 



67 

After dinner — the rain still continues. Owing to its depressing in- 
fluence, and my dinner of crackers fried in maggoty bacon and 
served up in molasses, my stomach exhibits unmistakable symptoms 
of dissatisfaction. 

Our army corps (the centre) will probably engage the enemy only 
to divert them from the right, where lies Yorktown upon which the 
main assault will be made, and where Heintzelman's corps is massed 
together. There is a rumor at Head-quarters of our Regiment being 
sent to Hurnside, where it was first going, if McClellan had permitted. 
I am delighted to hear of the reception of our Quartei-master's order 
for my trunk, as I have lost so much lately it seemed but natural the 
trunk should follow. All quiet on the lower Potomac. 

Edgar. 



THE 19th MASS. TAKES POSSESSION OF KEBEL WORKS 
AT YORKTOWN. 

Yorktown, May 6, 1862. 
Dear Leila: 

Yorktown has been evacuated, and I write this on board the 
Steamer Yanderbilt, now lying off Yorktown, about to start with the 
19th and 20th for West Point to intercept the Rebels' retreat. Our 
future seven days promise to be so full of work that I take this oppor- 
tunity of writing, uncertain when I can find another. Last Saturday 
our Brigade was on picket at our ordinary picket post in the woods, 
about 1)^ miles from the enemy's batteries. My duties as guide 
requiring me to be present at camp rather than in the woods, I had 
not of late accompanied the Reg't, but as shot and shell had been 
freely changed between us and our foes all day long, I determined to 
spend the night in the woods, expecting fun, and slept without wak- 
ing but twice, partially owing to the fatigue consequent on having 
visited all the batteries along our line during the afternoon. Capt. 
Rice and I met in an open field within rifle shot of the forts which 
frowned upon us, threatening every moment to shoot, but fearing the 
Andrew Sharpshooters, Avho filled the rifle pit which partially pro- 
tected us. The explosion of gunpowder, too, had become so common 
that, though it occurred every fifteen minutes during the night, I 
knew it not till next A. M. Before I turned out, news came that 
three contrabands came into our lines (which by the way are opposite 
Winn's Mills) and reported that Secesh had " skedaddled," and that 
other niggers were seeking our protection in the woods. Lieut. Hume, 
Co. K., being sent with one nigger to find these last, made instead a 
double-quick to the rebel works, and mounting the parapet, swung his 



58 

hat and cheered lustily. At once the Col. ordered our pickets forward, 
and the 19th— first of all the Division, and I know not of how many 
other Divisions along the line— planted its State and U. S. flags on the 
ramparts. A body of cavalry soon followed us to post its pickets; the 
19th was ahead, and it yielded. Soon we heard cheering and knew 
the whole Regiment had possessed themselves of the works. Soon as 
possible (for the Col. liad once refused me permission) I entered the 
works. They were of the strongest character, but proofs for the men, 
a kind of citadel overlooking and protecting by rifles the heavier 
works and guns below. In front was a long stretch of marshy land, 
which with the ditch could be completely overflowed from the mill- 
pond above. Within was a succession of rifle-pits of every size and 
angle with each other, and each raking the one in front. Under the 
most favorable circumstances it could not have been captured without 
immense loss, as each fort protected the other, and the ones at York- 
town and Warwick all the rest. It would first have been necessary 
to flank them by gunboats, and this even, to any unpractised eye, was 
almost impossible. 

We scouted through the woods till our foremost descried the 
rebel cavalry, the rear guard of the retreating foe. On one tent was 
written, " We can whip twice our number of Yankees; " and on the 
next, in characters clearer and more legible from their less age, " He 
that fights and runs aw^y, will Hve to fight another day. May 3." 
(The night of the evacuation.) About a mile from the forts toward 
Yorktown stood the house of the rebel Gen'l. Hill. Everything had 
been sent away except the piano; the mansion was the most beautiful 
I have seen in Virginia. Below was the daixy through which flowed 
a stream of the coolest and flnest water. 

A Itttle further on in the woods lay the deserted camp of a Bri- 
gade. Tents were left pitched; camp-fires left burning; food, arms 
and equipments strewed around in the confusion of their departure. 
I gathered a few relics which I will send to Boston as soon as possible. 
At noon came orders to hold ourselves in readiness to march. We 
fell in at once, but no farther orders arriving, bivouacked for the 
night at our old camp. Monday at 1 A. M. it began to rain, and 9 
A. M. found us on the march to Yorktown, in mud and water. At 
noon we arrived before the city and pitched our shelter tents. Before 
us stretched the long fortifications of Yorktown. Immediately in 
front was the breast-work which Washington built to protect his 
troops; and fifty rods further on, the spot where he received Corn- 
wallis' sword 81 years ago. 

The rain had fallen almost without intermission since Monday 



59 

A. M. Every 'road leading to Yorktowu was crowded Avitli Cavalry, 
Artillery and baggage wagons. The firing of the gunboats (as they 
poured shot and shell into the flank of the retreating foe) and sounds 
of distant musketry made the whole scenery and suggestion mateal 
in the extreme. At P. M. , in the midst of a smart shower, we struck 
tents and marched again. The roads grew inconceivably heavy to one 
who has never witnessed them after rain and travel have done their 
work. Wagons broke down, horses stuck, and such was the delay 
that in eight hours we had made but two miles. Once I lost my rub- 
ber boot. An orderly following rescued it after a severe struggle, and 
I proceeded barefoot in the rain to the nearest fire, and having washed 
the member restored the boot. So weary were we that men lay down 
in the mud to sleep at every halt, and when we at last turned oft" the 
road at 2 this A. M., I spread my blankets on which the rain had 
poured all day, and slept without interruption till daylight. I woke 
neithor stiff nor cold. To-day we lay on the beach till 3 P. M., when 
we left for West Point. Men with no military knowledge can see 
how careless or ignorant must be the General who orders 5000 men or 
more into a muddy road at G of a stormy night, to march a distance of 
two miles to a point where he cannot possibly use them till morning) 
and, as the result proved, till 3 next P. M. But Generals don't go 
afoot nor carry knapsacks, nor- lack shelter, or wood for fire, or ser- 
vants to build it. How can they feel? But our commissioned oflicers 
(from Col. down) must now suffer with the privates deprivation of 
food, sleep and fire; hut they donH stand it. I thought I had little 
endurance, but these gentry have been almost every one sick from 
exposure, while I not at all, my near approach to sickness being caused 
by miasma. 

But to describe Yorktown, which I visited this morning. A church 
and one-half dozen houses are all the original town. Secesh has 
erected numerous and expensive buildings for army purposes. His 
works of defence and offence, both here and at Gloucester Point just 
opposite, are strong and magnificent. Indeed no pains or expense is 
spared in his work. Immense military stores have been abandoned, 
and the large siege guns spiked. He has strewn torpedoes everywhere. 
The machine being buried all except the head, which is too small to 
be readily perceived, explodes under the incautious soldier's foot and 
hurls himlnto eternity. Two score perhaps have been killed in this 
fiendish manner since Sunday. McClellan, as reported in the New 
York Herald of yesterday, compelled evacuation by the evident supe- 
riority of his works; I believe rather by the superiority of his strategy. 
Magruder is reported to have fled for fear of losing his connections 



60 

with Richmond; which you will find quite probable. ^ ^ Steamboat 
jars, confusion reigns, and I feel sleepy. Our recent great successes 
have inspired me with strength and feelings unknown before. ^Vith 
God is all the glory, who has seemed not to suffer us to conquer, so 

much as to have confounded their counsels. 

Edgar. 
DESCRIPTION OF A BATTLE. 

" By regiment ! Forward into line !" 
Then sabres and guns and bayonets sliine. 
Oil ye who feel your fate at last, 
Repeat the old prayers, as your hearts beat fast ! 
Rub-a-dub-dub ! Rub-a-dub-dub ! 

Eltham,May11,1862. 
Dear Brother: 

My last letter was written on board the steamer which conveyed 
us to a place a few miles below West Point. We arrived about 6 
P. M., Tuesday, and anchored for the night. Next day about noon 
we debarked. A sharp skirmish had begun in the woods and fields 
about a mile from the landing, and we were immediately detached 
from the Brigade as a reserve. Here on the open field bordering the 
river, we passed an afternoon, where I learned more of a battle in its 
entireness than I ever shall again. Imagine a meadow almost level, 
twenty times as large as our i;ommon, bordered on three sides by 
woods; on the fourth by the York river. Eegiments constantly pour 
in from the landing, and take their places in close order by divisions 
i. e., five lines parallel to each other and six paces apart, 1000 men 
being thus contracted into the smallest possible space known to mili- 
tary science ; 15 or more regiments, besides several batteries of 
artillery, are posted thus, ready at a moment's notice to start for the 
battle field. We hear the continuous rattle of musketry and the cheers 
of the combatants, as alternately they gain temporary advantage and 
press their adversaries back. In the centre of the meadow are the 
Head-quarters of Gen. Slocuni in temporary command of all our forces. 
Mounted on his horse he receives the messages which officers of the 
Signal Corps telegraph from the battle ground through the chain of 
sentries who, posted a few rods from each other, pass the messages 
along; he despatches his aides with orders to the commanders of gun- 
boats, batteries and infantry forces. Two batteries, each supported 
by a reghnent of infantry, are drawn up in line and plaj-ing on our 
unseen foe, while the gunboats on the river throw shell far over our 
heads, where the reserve of the enemy is supposed to be jiosted. Add 
to this that parties of men are constantly bearing in the dead and 
wounded on stretchers to the hospital in our rear, and the picture is 



61 

comiilete. But one must experience the reality to appreciate the im- 
patience with which we waited the command to advance, and the 
disappointment which I felt at learning, on awaking from a doze in 
the hot sun, that Secesh had withdrawn. They fear our gunboats, and 
though shot and shell had fallen thick around our tleet (one even pass- 
ing through the smokestack of the Vanderbilt, where Manning who 
was sick had remained) yet a few hundred pound shell from these low 
black craft made John Reb withdraw his batteries on the double 
quick. 

I have had no fresh meat for two weeks ;nothing but hard bread 
and coffee for three days. Strict orders compelled us to rise at 3 A. M. 
This morning Manning came up with his haversack full of veal. No 
questions were asked, but the veal was very good. The enemy can 
be perceived throwing up earth works ahead, but I fear that, after 
having been so near a battle again and again, we shall finally retui'n 
without having seen even the rebels' backs. My health is excellent, 
and I am daily lost in wondering gratitude for such merciful preser- 
vation. Most of the officers are rarely well of late, while I am more 
rarely unwell. Perhaps these long weary years of abstinent self- 
denial are beginning to bear fruit. The paymaster has been here and 
paid us for January and February. Enclosed is a Secesh letter which 
I picked up in a rebel encampment last Sunday. Press it out and 
give it to Stanley for me. I hope sister and James are well, and Avhile 
you are in Sabbath school, I bid you good bye. 

Edgar. 

Capt. Newmian informs us that "Chaplain E. D. Winslow 
was left at Eltham, by orders of the Colonel, in charge of the sick, 
and other matters pertaining to the Regiment." Tliis circumstance 
led to an interesting event which is recorded on a subsequent page. 

Soon after the letter of May 11th was written Newcomb be- 
came unwell, and did not fully recover until after the battle of 
Fair Oaks, May 31 and June 1, 1862. Capt. Stephen J. Newman 
(then Principal Musician) writes as follows : "At camp at Laurel 
Hill, Va., May 20th, he was delirious from fever. I made him 
take shelter with me from the storm, but he never gave up a mo- 
ment from duty. I brought the Surgeon to him, and insisted that 
he should be excused from duty. But no ; Edgar would not; and 
next morning, wet to the skin and without breakfast, he was at 
his duty." 



62 

A HOSPITAL VISIT. 

May. 24, 1862, 
Dear Sister: 

At length after two davKS of hard but fatiguing marching with 
only 24 hours' interval, we are arrived at a nameless camp within 13 
miles of Richmond. The men are sick of soldiering, the intermitted 
order for 3 A. M. rising having been again enforced; rations being 
exceedingljr poor, and 121 of our Regiment absent, 109 from sickness. 
Even I, who till within a week never had a thought of homesickness, 
want to go home and get something to eat. And notice, once at home 
I'll never go again for a soldier. No fresh hardships, nor the con- 
tinuance of hardships, have changed me; but the prize of health is 
gained. My position is not as agreeable as it was, or might now be, 
and I only want to enter Richmond, and then "good evening, Mr. 
Soldier," as they say here. Months I fear must elapse before we are 
mustered out of service. We have marched hard and far to catch a 
sight of the backs even of the rebels, but so far in vain. 

ISIanning went into the hospital this morning. Last night a piece 
of Bologna gave his weak stomach a most violent cholic. You are 
probably expecting it to be a cool quiet place in pleasant weather, 
warm and dr}- in wet, and generally inviting. When I went to see 
him, I found in a huge canvas tent two rows of sick men, feet to feet, 
dying on the damp ground, which was drained by a trench dug between 
the rows of patients. Such are the accommodations of a ""Regimental 
field hospital. If the patient convalesces and becomes well, good; if 
not, he is sent to Monroe. Manning will probably be out in a few 
days, but one so tenderly reared, so young and sympathetic and impul- 
sive, is apt to sink at once to the most dismal homesickness. 

Col Hinks has given his permission to hold a prayer-meeting to- 
morrow, the weather permitting; so we shall have something to remind 
us of the good old times we once knew, and the good times we hope 
again to know. 

You probably would like to know about our marches. We left 
Cedar Hill about 8 A. M., three days ago, and marched till the middle 
of the afternoon, being some eight hours on the road under an in- 
tensely hot sun; stopping only when the artillery and baggage ahead 
became blocked, resting nowhere long enough for dinner. Twelve 
miles was our march, and one-third of the Regiment fell out. Next day 
came an order that anj'^ man falling out of the march should receive 
no whiskey for the next 24 hours. Yesterday the sun didn't shine, 
but the atmosphere was most oppressive. However, not one to my 
knowledge fell out. Indeed, the half gill of whiskey served out every 



63 

mornino: and night seems to be all that relieves the monotony of the 
life of the Eegiment. 

Yesterday we passed several splendid farms. On the gates lead- 
ing to the magnificent mansions were Avhite Hags, and the strict orders 
against leaving the ranks prevented all depredation or purchase; and 
here let me return to our commissary department, for I know the satis- 
faction of gratified appetite. During the cold season of more than six 
months we never knew a single issue of bacon; but now from the 
tune we left Monroe, bacon, clear fat, has been served out regularly, 
and generally to tlie exclusion of salt beef. The men cannot eat it at 
this time. Yet it is generally the only meat served out. So fare 
Uncle Sam's. 

We are now encamped by the roadside, a swamp all around. We dig 
wells, and before they reach five feet in depth they are filled. The 
rain of today has saturated the ground like a sponge. As I overheard 
one say just now, " A man here doesn't know where to stop; he goes 
to his tent, but it looks so desolate he doesn't dare go into it." If the 
men did not expect soon to go home, their sufferings would be almost 
intolerable. It seems to take a long time for letters to reach me now. 
It seems to me that if you could be so regular in writing when I was 
comparatively comfortable, you might continue the practice now that 
we are so thoroughly miserable. 

Edgak. 

Newcomb's ilhiess, previously mentioned, doubtless increased 
liis despondency at tliis time. He devoted no little attention to 
the sick and wounded, and the hospital visit above mentioned was 
only one out of many. 

A MILITARY FUNERAL. 

•' Tliere is uo discharge in that war." Ecclesiastes Vlll. 8. 
" Present— arms. Shoulder— arms. Reverse— arms. Column forward. March." 

Infantry Tactics (funeral honors.) 
" Marching to the plaintive cry of fifes— it is almost a woman's wail— and the 
moan of nuitBed drums." Taylor. 

Nathaniel Prentiss of Cambridge enlisted in the 19th Mass, 
Vols, in August, 1861. He was mustered in at Lynnfield as 
Sergeant in Co. F. At that time he was 34 years of age, stalwart 
and apparently in excellent health. At Camp Benton, early in 
November, 1861, he was transferred to the Commissary Depart- 
ment, and soon after was appointed Quartermaster Sergeant. The 
severe experiences on the Peninsula were very trying to the most 



64 



robust, and any latent weakness of constitution was sure to be re- 
vealed. Prenfiss died suddenly on May 25, 1862, at Lewis Farm, 
near Cold Harbor, Va. Capt. *Newnian gives the following par- 
ticulars : " He was found dead in his tent by Edgar. I think he 
must have died from heart disease ; for our (22) Army Corps only 
reached that camp near Cold Harbor at 7.30 P. M. of the previous 
day. The Quartermaster Sergeant was on the sick report for 
about a week, but managed to do his duty." 

About six months before this sad event, Newcomb wrote an 
account of the burial of a comrade, deprived of even a religious 
service, for the Chaplain was away. " It sickens me," he contuiues, 
" to live in such an atmosphere. Man lives and dies like a brute." 
On the present occasion the Chaplain was also absent in obedience 
to orders. Newcomb very properly decided to act as Chaplam 
•pro tempore, in order that the remains of Prentiss might have 
Christian burial. Newcomb and Prentiss were originally mem- 
bers of the same company, and since promotion they had passed 
many pleasant hours together as Non-Commissioned Staff Officers. 
It was somewhat difficult to find a suitable place for the grave. 
Near the Chichahoming the ground was too wet, and a location 
was selected at some distance from the stream. A detail was or- 
dered to prepare the grave, and considerable labor was expended 
in digging through the coarse gravel and stone. 

¥he^funeral took place on May 27th, and Capt. Stephen J. 
Newman has kindly furnished interesting details which are given 
below: "Edgar read from the scripture, St. John, 'I am the 
resurrection', &c.— the Lord's Prayer (and let me say here that I 
never heard before a more fervent recital of the Lord's Prayer):— 
Co. F. was detailed as the funeral party, with all the other men 
of the Regiment that wished to attend :— Sixteen men and a 
Sergeant, as firing party :— Location of the grave, about half a 
mile from camp, and nearer to Cold Harbor, and about 100 yards 
from the road ; to the right and rear of the old mill at Cold Har- 
bor:— Funeral about 10.30 A. M:— Dead March in Saul, by all 
the field (20) music :— Coffin lowered in grave by the usual mili- 
tary honors [see Newcomb's letter of Nov. 23, 1861] :— weather, 
fair :— Dress parade in the eve. Edgar was Sergeant Major, and 
never absent from his i)()St at any time to my knowledge." 



65 

In a subsequent letter Capt. Newman states that "Co. F 
funeral i)arty was in charge of the 1st Sergeant; and tlie funeral 
escort was in command of the Senior Sergeant of Co. F. The 
obsequies was under the immediate orders and charge of the 
Officer of the Day." Cajtt. Newman also refers to Newcomb's 
excellent remarks " over the remains of our Comrade Prentiss," 
and adds: "Edgar may -have acted as Chaplain after I left the 
Regiment; I was discharged at WarrentoAvn, Ya., Nov. 10, 1862, 
and bade Edgar adieu at 2 P. M. that day. Edgar gave me one- 
half the money he had to ]»ay my expenses, |5, to Washington." 

In his letters Newcomb did not mention his jtrominent part 
at the funeral. Diligent inquiry has failed to bring to light any 
other instance in which Edgar considered it his duty to perform 
the public functions of Chaplain. His volimtary service in the 
absence of the proper officer Avas not without i)recedent at an 
early period in the war, as will be seen below. 

The 13th Mass. Vols, went to the front somewhat in advance 
of the 19th, and Companies A and B were posted on Antietam 
Creek, not far from the locality where the famous battle was 
afterwards fought. On Sunday, Aug. 18, 1861, a correspondent 
of the Boston Journal wrote as follows: "In the absence of our 
regular Chai.lain, Brevet Major Fox officiated. The services con- 
sisted of reading a chapter from the New Testament; selections 
from tlie Psalms ; reading a portion of the Episcopal church ser- 
vice; repeating the Lord's Prayer. Simple as this service may 
seem, it was the most impressive to me that I have witnessed 
since we have been organized. At the conclusion of our religious 
ceremonies Major Fox commenced the reading of the Articles of 
War, but before he had time to go through them, Col. Leonard 
arrived." A complete history of the terrible struggle Avould 
include many incidents similar to those above narrated. In one 
case a woman read the burial service over the remains of a brave 
young officer, as it was imi»ossible to secure the presence of a 
Chaplain or any other man Avho was willing to undertake the 
duty. The solemn yet beautiful scene has been depicted in verse. 
Cold Harbor, or Cold Arbor, has been a summer resort for 
the people of Kichmond for nearly a hundred years. A portion 



m 

of tile forces under McClellan and Grant struggled against superior 
numbers of the enemy near this j>lace, in 1862 and 1864. In June, 
1866, the remains of Union soldiers buried in surrounding fields 
were re-interred in the National cemetery at Cold Harbor. 

In regard to Newcomb's qualifications for the performance of 
sacred duties Col. Chadwick remarks that he would have made an 
excellent Chaplain. 

A few days after the funeral of Prentiss, thousands of men 
were killed and wounded at Seven Pines and Fair Oaks. " The 
19th was in reserve at Fair Oaks, but under fire," as Capt. Wm. 
A. Hill informs us. Further i»articulars concerning the desperate 
fight on Saturday and Sunday, May 31 and June 1, are given in 
Newcomb's letter dated June 5, 1862. It will be observed that 
the regiment was within a few miles of the Confederate capital. 

Camp before Richmond, 

June 5, 1862. 
Dear Leila : 

Here we are more than a mile on the northern side of the Chicka- 
hominy, which the Reg't crossed Saturday 5)4 miles from Richmond, 
and on the eve of a most fearful fight. In my last I told you how the 
19th was on picket, and I staid at camp; how T heard firing, but deter- 
mined to stay and have a good night's sleep. All the afternoon and 
night, Infantry, Artillery, annnunition and ambulance wagons hurried 
past as if mad. Sunday morning came orders for all serviceable men 
to join the Reg't. About A. M. I crossed the creek; the current is 
swift, the banks for i^ mile on either side are an impassable and an 
impenetrable swamp. No better barrier for defence could be selected, 
but we crossed it Saturday Avithout opposition, and then^Secesh tried 
to di'ive us back. That afternoon they were temporarily successful. 
Sedgwick's Division arrived just in time, and the 7th Michigan drove 
them back, or rather kept them from driving us farther. Sunday the 
creek began to rise, swollen either by the rain four hours before, or 
1)y the breaking down of dams the rebels had constructed for the 
purpose of flooding us; and by night the bridge constructed the 
previous day with so much labor was all swept away. Even the field 
}^ mile from the creek, where our Reg't lay wben I joined them, was 
covered with 150 inches of water. Sunday morning the firing recom- 
menced. About 8, we were ordered forward a mile or so, drawn up 
iu a beautiful Avood, arms were stacked, and the men lay down to rest. 



o< 

About noon orders came from the Brigadier to move forward. Tor 
a space of two miles we travelled at a rapid rate over ploughed land 
and gravelled roads. Here I saw the first stones I had seen since 
Fortress Monroe. Mud, brooks and swamps, and when we were at 
last halted, breathless and perspiring profusely under the hot mid-day 
sun, 'twas only to receive orders from the Major-General to return to 
our old quarters, the woods. So we left the wounded, and the hospitals 
and the firing, and at a pace equally rapid returned. The rebels were 
slowly driven back Sunday and at (i P.M. we were ordered again to the 
front. Such alas, is the fate of the 19th. If in front, the enemy 
run (as at Yorktown) ; if behind, we are not needed. We bivouacked 
a few hundred yards from our halting place of a few hours before, 
and about one hundred from the battle-field of the two days past, the 
woods on our front and right. These Avere full of dead. About 9, 
(juick firing was heard in the woods, and we turned out at once. Hut 
it proved to be one party of our pickets firing on another. Three 
men were killed as we learned next day. No further alarm during 
the night. Next day we were ordered to furnish a detail to bury the 
dead. They Avorked till noon, when we were ordered to the front, 
immediately in rear of the pickets where we now are. Many oflicers 
and men visited the woods and hospitals from curiosity. They report 
the scenes as sickening. The dead, lying exposed to the air, often in 
l)iles of fifteen or more, for two days,had become swollen and offensive. 
All attitudes, and contortions and wounds were present. In one place 
part of a company were shot down, each by a wound immediately 
mortal. There they lay in two ranks, and file-closers, their heels on 
the very spot where they stood and fought. Most of these dead were 
rebels. Most of ours and the wounded had been already brought in, 
but occasionally one of the wounded was carried past to the crowded 
hospital. 

We occupy now the camp from which the rebels were driven Sun- 
day. It is low, and surrounded by the graves of the dead. Frequent 
shelling and firing'* on our pickets, almost within sight in the woods 
ahead, have disturbed our rest by day and night. An almost uninter- 
rupted and very severe rain has Hooded the ground and wet us through, 
for we marched without knapsacks or tents. An overcoat and woollen 
l)lanket are all the protection we have against water. My feet have 
been wet ever since Sunday noon. Our rations are a scant al- 
lowance of hard bread, coffee twice a day (though last night we had 
none at all), occasionally fresh or salt beef. Nothing else, and this 
for a victorious army beside the raih'oad which we hold and run 



G8 

from West Point here. I don't blame Uncle Sam or little Mac, but 
some commissary of the Brigade, Division or Corps, who has little 
energy and less humanity. * * In answer to your question the 19th 
was the first of our Division, and second of the whole army to plant 
the Stars and Stripes on the rebel works; a regiment of Smith's 
Division on our left being first of all the line. 

June G. 

Knowing your anxiety, 1 shall if possible forward this today. I 
am perfectly well, after this the third day's exposure to a constant 
rain. The news of the last fight begins to reach us, and we find it 
more terrible than we had supposed. As soon as possible after the 
19th have had their turn, I will write, but we can make no advance 
till return of fine weather. * * 

June 7. 

Yesterday T was ordered to return to our old camp for some pa- 
pers. I went down on the train which conveyed the wounded soldiers 
home. How J wished I was wounded slightly. In the cattle car with 
myself were 30 wounded, and as their wounds had begun to maturate 
and were constantly exposed — partly from pride, partly to relieve and 
cool their feverishness — the stench was intolerable, and here for 
the first time did I appreciate the meaning of " the sickening details 
of war." Men were shot in the breast, arms, legs, head. Many were 
the amputations. One fellow had a ball through his breast, and an 
arm shot otf . 

But I managed to survive and reach a despatch station, from 
which I footed it to camp, three miles. This morning at b% A. M., 
I was on my way to camp. I returned on foot, travelling at least 7 miles 
without breakfast and over the vilest of roads. We have to corduroy 
two-thirds of the roads here. Arrived in camp I found the regiment 
under marching orders. From the disposition of troops in our rear, a 
fio-ht was evidently expected. I ate a very hearty breakfast of stewed 
beans, hard bread and coffee, and then read your letters which await- 
my arrival. How glad I am to hear from home constantl3^ * * All 
dav we have expected an attack or a move, but remain in our old 
place. Health and spirits are good. As the mail is closing, and my 
letter has been ver}^ long, and there is no more news, I bid you good 
evening; wishing as I never wished before to spend Saturday night at 
hom*e, and Sunday in the Christian way. 

Edgar. 



69 



Fair Oaks, June 14, 1862. 



Dear Brother: 

Two weeks to-day since the battle which has rendered suddenly 
famous this obscure railroad station. Our camp ground has been 
changed from the swamp to one of the many burial grounds of this vi- 
cinity. The weather has changed from constant rain to intense heat, G 
A. M. being as hot as one of our August mornings at 11. Every morn- 
ing we rise at :3, remain under arms till 4.30, when we are allowed to 
turn in. But by that time cooks, wood-choppers and teamsters are 
noisily at work; and he is fortunate who can sleep, and most to be 
envied who can both sleep and find any coffee left on awaking. This 
early rising is most unpleasant and wearing, but at the same time most 
essential to i)revent surprise from a foe who never sleeps. With the 
exception of two hours' otlice work, I now do no duty; while the ex- 
treme heat and frequent interruptions to sleep, both accidental (i. e., 
where pickets fire on an imaginary foe, rousing at once for an hour 
10 or 12,000 men), and constant (like the 3 A. M. order) dispose me 
1o as little exertion as possible. Nevertheless, while the sweat pours 
down, and heat-rash and wood-ticks make indescribable itchings over 
my body, I can do duty with any one. Indeed mere existence seems 
such a pleasure that I daily wonder and thank God for it. Our life is 
hard, even for us accustomed to hard living, and we daily experience 
scenes which it would sicken you to hear me recount— scenes inci- 
dental to the camp-life of a victorious army encamped on an extended 
battle-ground. Hut we all look forward to Richmond as the goal of 
our efforts, and, as many think, the termination of our service. Cer- 
tainly, vast and important changes will be wrought in our regiment 
before it leaves Richmond tc) prosecute the war. 

Our food is now abundant. The bacon and ham have ceased. 
A little providence when beans and rice are served out will secure 
enough for four or live meals. * * Manning, who is an excellent 
cook, fries pancakes of fiour, salt and water, which relish well with 
molasses or sugar bought from our Commissary. None of our dishes 
are very recherche, but any change of diet is at once palatable and 
refreshing. When I shall return I cannot tell, but shall think myself 
happy to celebrate New Year's day with you. When we march, our 
course is full of incidents; when we halt, all is still and uneventful. 
So I have nothing more to write to-day , and wish you a pleasant Sabbath . 

Edgar. 



70 

OUK HERO IS IN GKEAT PERIL. 

Camp near Fait: Oaks, June 25, 1802. 
Dear Charlie: 

Last Saturday at 11 P. M. we were roused and marched to the 
front, forming Une behind the parapet. Here we i-emained till this 
mox'ning, suffering frequent alarms at all hours of the day and night. 
Two nights ago we heard a sharp fire in the woods ahead. All hands 
were at once under arms and most interested auditors of the contest. 
The shouts of the rebels drew nearer, and we thought surel}' the con- 
test had come to us, but the rebels contented themselves with holding 
the entire wood. Here let me explain the position. First is our line 
of eartliAVorks, a breastwork outside of which is a ditch, and at proper 
distances along the line are redoubts pierced for cannon. These earth- 
works extend along our whole line of a dozen miles or more. Just in 
front of us is an ojx'n lield formed by felling trees — at once a defence 
to us and an annoyance to th? advancing enemy. Leyond the woods 
lies an open country where are the earthworks of the enemy. The 
woods are the disputed ground. About 7.30 this A. M., after seeing 
several regiments enter the woods, and hearing heavy firing imme- 
diately after, we were ordered forward. We filed along through tlie 
densest foliage I ever saw. Soon we came across a rebel shot a week 
or two ago. The gray uniform clothed a skeleton. The firing was 
now on our riglit, now in front, now on our left. It was impossible 
to see fifty feet ahead, and skirmishers were thrown out in front. We 
marched forward and halted ever^^ few minutes till within sight of 
the line of battle. Lieut. Warner of Co. H was sent forward to learn 
the exact position and name of our friends. He ran forward through 
the hot fire and returned in safety, but five minutes after, while he 
was the centre of a group of three, Lievit. Thorndike being on the 
right, and I on the left, touching him with my elbow, a straj' shot 
pierced his breast. With a sharp cry he fell and expired. We carried 
him to the rear and marched on. Soon the enemy, discovering our 
position, fired volley after volley, which most of our men returned at 
once without waiting for orders. Few sought to run, and those 
stopped at the command of the officers who, they knew, would shoot 
them if they disobeyed. The rattle of musketr}^ was so incessant that 
it was with difflcult}'^ we could hear orders. Soon the left of the com- 
pany in whose rear is my position discerned men coming in on our 
flank. We heard the cries of the exulting rebels, as driving us back 
their shouts grew louder. Visions of a Richmond prison flitted before 
me as I retreated to find the regiment which had changed position 



71 

witJiout my kiiowloflgc. On I hasted awa}- from the shouts till I saw 
our welcome flag again. The Major wanted to know what was going 
on, and as soon as 1 told him we were retreating the regiment was 
ordei'ed forward. Wc arrived just in time to prevent the breaking of 
home Xew Jersey troops. For ten or fifteen minutes we were exposed 
to a constant rain of bullets. The men lay down, but some who re- 
mained standing escaped, while others at their feet were wounded. 
Standing, sitting or lying, the shot seemed to strike without distinc- 
tion. * * At length we returned, having driven the rebels com- 
pletely out of the woods in front, with a loss to us of 43, of whom o 
are killed and 4 mortally wounde<l. The firing continues at intervals, 
and probably the rebels will make desperate eiforts to re-take the 
woods; but I trust that the same God who has kept me amid the dan- 
gers of to-day will still keep me. Death has lost its terrors to most of 
us, because we havi' faced it in so many forms and so often. Falling 
by a hostile bullet and being abandoned by the advancing line, perhaps 
to die and rot undiscovered in the woods or swami)s, that 1 fear ; but 
otherwise I welcome death as infinite gain. 

Never did I know before how hard it is to fight. It is not the 
marching nor the firing that wears men, but the suspense of the slow 
advance and fi-equent hall, the increasing rattle of musketry, the 
devilish yells of our merciless enemy; till finally when at once the 
storm of bullets whirs over and on each side, and men bcirin lo fall, 
and orders come thick and fast, the sweat oozes from every pore. It 
is not fear but uncertainty, that so strains the nerves and makes men 
live da\'s in every moment. I am tired and want to sleep, but our 
mimerous batteries are shelling the space beyond the woods, and I 
cannot sleep. IJy the way, Manning followed the regiment, and from 
fatigue leaned his head against a tree, when a volley swept over him, 
one ball piercing the tree. Lieut. Hume, Co. K, received two balls 
through his coal, neither of (hem wounding him. Our regiment 
behaved nobly. 

June 26th. 

Nothing of importance has transjjired since yesterday. The 
woods are now being felled and rille pits constructed at favorable 
points. The rebels attempted to capture one last night, but were 
repulsed with much loss. Your brother, Edgar. 

In the long letter of July 4, Newcomb gives as good an idea 
as language can convey, of the dangers and sufferings of the 19tli 
during the Seven Days' Retreat. He records the bravery of his 



comrades, but does not refer to his own conspicuous lieroism at 
White Oak Swamp and elsewhere. 

Camp at Harrison's Landing, July 4, 1862. 
Dear Sister: 

Writing as I do in haste I find I have begun on the last page 
which please excuse. Thank God, we are at last encamped on the 
banks ot the James, to which for four successive nights we have re- 
treated, leaving on the battle-fields and in the hands of the rebels 
more than 100 men. I am perfectly safe and sound, though wearied 
out M'ith the duties of the last week. Saturday morning, June 28, we 
were informed that a large force was moving on us in four lines. Gen. 
Hooker on our left sent word he could hold his position if we main- 
tained ours. Immediately we began preparations for defence, adding 
to the strength of our fortifications by huge traverses. Saturday even- 
ing we had orders to be ready to move at a minute's notice, and all 
night long we were broken of rest by expectation of hearing from the 
enemy or receiving marching orders. Sunday morning we left at day- 
break, and retreated 1)^ miles to one of those long undulating fields 
surrounded by woods, in which Virginia abounds, and which are so 
perfect!}^ fitted for defence. Eegiment after regiment and batteries of 
artillery filed in till the spacious field was filled, except the side toward 
the enemy which was conmianded^t every point. After an hour or 
two of anxious waiting, we heard the cheers of Secesh. An hour after 
men came running in and reported them advancing in swarms. Soon 
musketry was heard in the woods in front. Their pickets had attacked 
ours. The firing increased as the enemy advanced, till there was a 
perfect roar as our first line engaged them. Then our batteries 
opened, throwing shell far over the heads of our men into the reserves 
of the enemy with terrific effect. We were the second line, but as the 
first had kept them at bay so well with the assistance of the artillery, 
we did not advance, and had only to encounter their shells which ex- 
ploded constantly before, behind and on both sides of us, and above 
us. The hospitals were soon filled, the dead being left in the woods. 
At 3 P. M., as the baggage had gained much distance, the artillery 
limbered up. The pickets were withdrawn and we started almost 
double-quick for a high hill and plain at its base. The rebels were 
after us, and their forces kept in sight of our rear guard. All the sick 
and wounded were brought with us to this j^laee. Savage's Station. 
Our troops were again disposed in positions. We had mot been here 
an hour before firing in the woods in front warned us they had come 



73 

uji; and a gun posted so as to greatly annoy us caused an order from 
Meagher's Brigade to advance and take it at the charge. The green 
tiag of Ireland and the Stars and Stripes waved together over three 
regiments of Irishmen on the double-quick down the hill. In the 
plain they stripped off knapsacks and entered the woods. Soon the 
increasing roar told us they had found the foe, and shortly after' their 
cheering told that they were driving him back. But they reached the 
open space only to tind that Secesh had just hauled off their piece. 
The firing now became more general, the roar of artillery and clatter 
of small arms almost deafening. One or two lines formed in the 
woods' and two in the plain below. Only two regiments of our Bri- 
gade remained on the hill. Ours was one. So far the sei;ond time that 
day we just escaped a fight. About t» P. M. the artillery limbered up 
and left. The lines withdrew, and we started in the rain on an eight 
mile march. So silently did we go that our own pickets were surprised 
at coming in to find us gone, and our rear guard marched three hours 
before catching up. By day-break we had put Cedar Swamp creek 
between us and our foe. Here we halted till 7 A. M. Monday, and 
then continued our march, blowing up or burning the bridge in our 
rear. This day like the preceding was oppressively hot. We marched 
all the forenoon and halted in an open field. About 4 P. M. we heard 
artillery, the enemy had arrived in front, and sought to cross the 
swamp. Back we marched 1}^ miles and waited further orders. In 
an hour we were ordered to return to our original position. About 
half way we were ordered to fix bayonets. Something is up, thought 
we, and before long began the rattle of muskets and we were on the 
double-quick. Artillery swept past us, reckless of life or limb. Soon 
we reached our old ground, but instead of filing to the left, filed to the 
right, and having formed line before the battery charged down to sup- 
port the loth Mass. The bullets fiew thick and fast, and having 
recovered our breath and the confusion of going so far on the double- 
quick, we entered another field where we saw none Jihead of us. 
Here we lay down behind a knoll and sheltered ourselves somewhat, 
l3ut stray shots had killed some, and we passed several ghastly corpses. 
The lines were formed as usual, we being the third. After the two in 
front had entered the woods Ave advanced almost to their edge and la}' 
down. Soon Gen. Grover, who for some unknown reason commanded 
us, ordered us to enter the woods. " Be sure, boys, and don't fire on 
your own men," were his last words before we entered. Advancing 
some 150 yards we had halted and dressed, when a regiment hidden 
by foliage, but not 15 feet distant, opened a terrific fire upon us. The 



74 

powder flashed in my face and struck my eyes. We retreated but 
rallied on the edge of the woods, the right charging bayonets; the left 
not hearing the order still advanced, but only prepared to tire again. 
Again we retreated before our unexpected foe, and found out next 
day our friends had marched to the right, and the enemy had advanced 
to their position. We retreated and formed line again before the 
woods, but with diminished numbers, entering with more than 300, 
and returning with 150. Soon a regiment was discovered forming 
behind the fence in the woods. " Who are you," shouted the Col. 
No answer. " Fire!" and we flred. They returned it. The Col. was 
wounded, and the Major fell, and the regiment broke again, but so 
perfectly are we drilled that the officers soon rallied them. Back we 
went to our old position, and night fell on us. Companies felt sad, as 
they looked around upon the few that remained; in Co. H, 7 in Co. 
F, I'vrc.; 134 men in the regiment, and all the Field Officers gone, 
with the Senior Captain too. Capt. Rice was in command of the reg- 
iment. Putnam of his company was slightly wounded in the shoulder, 
and being ordered to the hospital cried " Good bye, boys. Give it to 
them. I'll soon be with you." * * We lay in our old position till 
11 P. M., when we withdrew, formed in line of battle till the artillery 
had passed, so near were we to the enemy who were expected at once 
to attack us. But they had suffered too severely; and in silence we 
pursued our retreat, passing through the woods, steep banks on each 
side of our gloomy road. The men rarely whispered, and answered 
no questions. But by day-break of Tuesday we entered the opening, 
and all hands breathed more freely. Thank God, we were safe. As 
Ave started a few hours after for our present position, the enemy 
opened fire from the woods, and we must form again to resist him. 
He Urought a battery to bear upon our lines, and after several men 
had been killed we changed our position to the woods where we re- 
mained all Tuesday. About 3 A. M. of Wednesday we moved, as 
our men had driven the enemy several miles back the previous even- 
ing, and the space before our lines being left open as a trap, had not 
been occupied by them. By 7 A. M. it began to rain; and I, wearied 
out with fighting all day and marching all night, and having had little 
sleep since Friday, soon fell behind the regiment. History will fail 
to record how the first born son of a "very respectable family" 
tramped along behind the regiment. No blankets on his back, 
for they were lost in the first fight; no clothes in his knapsack, 
for it failed to go on the teams; few hard bread in his handker- 
chief, for his haversack had "gone up" two days before; no 



75 

scabbard to his sword, for that liad gone up, loo; how, wearied out, he 
lay down in the rain and slept amid the tramping of foot and the roll- 
ing of teams and the cries of the drivers; how he woke up and by 
chance found a team of his own regiment which bore him with spring- 
less axles for hours, while he slept; how he woke up to hnd innumer- 
able teams awaiting their turn to move, and heard the Quarter-master 
say that if they didn't start to night the rebels might be upon them in 
the morning; how he left the team and his hard bread and handker- 
chief, and marched oc after the regiment through mud which 
momentarily closed over his U. S. shoes and threatened to sink them 
irremediably; how he at dusk arrived at the camp of the 2nd Maine, 
where a good Saniaritan gave him corn cake and meat and tea. but for 
want of accommodation suffered him to spend the night on a log in 
the rain; how at daylight of yesterday he reached the IDth, "played 
out" and wot and muddy from top to toe. * * The 2d and 3d 
there was a cold rain; to-day is pleasant. We arc moved into a tem- 
]mrary camp. I have washed to-day pants, shoes and stockings, and 
feel clean again; I thought that a pursuit was the toughest possible 
experience, but a retreat beats it ten to one. Saturday, Sunday, Mon- 
day and Tuesday nights wc marched or lay awake; and all day long 
we fought. We have l)een in 4 engagements, mardied 25 miles, lost 
17<i men, and covered ourselves with glory. The Rebels have taken 
all our sick and wounded, and followed, perhaps driven us, to the cover 
of gunboats. We are at a loss to imagine whether this is strategy or 
defeat. Time will show. At every point we have repulsed the rebels 
with heavj^ loss, though they have taken immense stores of us, and we 
have destroyed much more, to save it from them. Wc have received 
large reinforcements which now hold the front and give us rest. 
McClellan often rides along our lines and is the idol of the men. To- 
day he visited us, and the long unused instruments of music played 
again, and cannon lired salvos. We have received a mail, the first 

for a week. 

Good bye, Edgau. 



GALLANT SERVICE SECURES A COMMISSION. 

"The Lord is the strpiigth of my life; of whom shall I be afraiil?" Psalms XXVII. I. 

On jVIonday, June 30, in the language of Gen. A. L. Webb, 
"the Union troops successfully resisted three separate attacks on 
tlank and rear. There was no more critical day in the campaign." 



7G 

One of these encounters is known as the Battle of White Oak 
Swamp, Ca])t. J. G. B. Adams of the 19th writes as follows: 
" Lieut. Edgar M. Xewcomb was one of my best friends, and a 
better soldier never served in the Union Army. He was Sergeant 
Major during the Seven Days' Fight from Fair Oaks to Harrison's 
Landing. He and myself rallied the regiment after the third 
charge at White Oak Swamp, in which INLajor Howe was killed 
and half of the line disabled. We were selected after said battles 
by vote of the Officers as two of the enlisted men that had distin- 
guished themselves, and ])romoted Lieutenants. As Officers we 
nuirched and fought side by side." 

Capt. Stephen L Newman fully confirms the above statement : 
"Newcomb was a ver}^ cool man under fire, and the field ofiicers 
s])oke of him as a brave soldier at the battle of White Oak Swamp, 
Nelson's farm." Subsequently at Malvern Hill his praiseworthy 
conduct was observed and mentioned by the ofiicers." 

Another fellow-soldier gives this testimony : " Newcomb's 
bravery was so distinguished as to be the general subject of remark 
among men who were accustomed to regard all dangers as so many 
trivial things easily forgotten when passed." As stated by the 
Kev. J. C. Fernald and Capt. Adams, Xewcomb " was promoted 
to the rank of Second Lieutenant for gallant conduct Avhile in 
action on the Seven Days' Retreat from IJichmond." 

The following paragrajth was taken from a letter publij^hed in 
the Boston Journal: " The 19th in the fight of Monday, June 30, 
behaved with unjoaralleled bravery. Col. Ilinks and Lieut. Col. 
Devereux were wounded, and Major Howe was killed ; also a lai-ge 
iiumber of captains and lieutenants were either killed or wounded. 
Notwithstanding this terrible decimation, it never wavered, never 
flinched ; but stood to the last, and joined in that last onset which 
sent the rebels back to Richmond, defeated and routed." 

On receiving his commission Newcomb was at first assigned 
to Co. K. At this time the Captain Avas absent wounded and the 
First Lieutenant was ill. Consequently our friend suddenl}^ found 
himself in command of the company which always held the right 
of the regimental line. A member of Co. K, Mr. Charles A. 
Newhall, of Saugus, clerk of the Nineteenth Regiment Association, 



has contributed the following anecdote : "I call to mind one inci- 
dent in Avhich I was personally interested, wliich tends to make 
me remember him as a man of feeling, and kind-hearted. At one 
time he had command of the Co. which I was in, and I was sick, 
but had not been excused from duty by the Sin-geon ; and l.ieut, 
Newcomb insisted that I should go on dress )>arade, although I 
told him that T did not feel able ; but as we had bixt few men in 
the Co. he ordered me to go, and of course I had to obey. But 
after we had formed our line I was taken with a sudden faintness; 
and the first thing I knew after that, I was in my ti-nt with Lieut. 
Newcomb leaning over me, and I never saw any one feel woise 
than he did, to think he had made me go on jtarade when I was 
so sick. And every day while I was sick, whicii was for ;J or 4 
weeks, he visited me, and did all he could for me like a brother, 
and I have always had a great res])ect for him." 

Ca:mi' NKAii IIaurisox's Landing, 

July 15, 1862. 
Dkar Leila : 

Your letti'r was roceivi'd this morning and mother's yesterday. 
These are the only ones received since the news of our retreat reached 
home. The Sclent ilic American comes so regularly I believe some 
one has kindly subscribed for it. I have also received Dailies to the 
10th. We have now recovered comparatively from our fatigue, 
tliough Uncle Sam still neglects to provide teats and clothing. * * 
The knapsack brought from Lynnlield was left at camp, and now is 
the property of some Rebel. Our old camp was a mile distant from 
the fortihcations where we lay when we received marching orders. 
Manning had transferred our property to the Adjutants' tent, that all 
might go in Head-quarters team as always heretofore. Late in the 
evening I heard that the Adjutant had ordered my knapsack taken 
down to Co. F, and obtaining permission to go to camp 1 found it — 
not. On returning the Adjutant assured me the team had carried it. 
It has not turned up yet. Sunday night on our forced march we were 
ordered to throw away every thing we could possibly spare, and away 
went woolen blanket and tent. Monday as we halted on the edge of 
the battle-tield, to form for the charge to our companions' relief, 
orders came, ' Throw away everything,' and away went rubber blanket, 
overcoat and haversack. To-day 1 could send home all these invaluable 
mementoes of an enlisted man, but tliey are all lost, and none of my 



7« 

many losses have been more grievous. My pants, the same I wore 
home last winter and ever since, were sent home by express 3 or 4 
days ago. To-day I sent to the office my sword and coat. They were 
declared contraband, but I hope to send them through soon. 

You are doubtless anxious to know something of my new life [as 
a commissioned officer.] Though it is not so hard as my old one, yet 
I have had more than my share of work. Capt. Wass Is absent 
wounded, Lieut. Palmer is sick, and I have been in command of the 
company ever since I entered ; besides, I have one day done duty as 
Officer of the Guard, once as Adjutant, and once as Lieut, of a party 
at work on the fortillcations. Health is good, "grub" vastly im- 
proved, leisure considerable, and the responsibility of command very 
pleasant. Moreover, I am now waited upon, instead of at once wait- 
ing upon myself and running on errands for others. For weeks to 
come we shall see no active service, and if I withstand heat and fatigue 
as I have done I shall live in clover. Eut not expecting promotion 
so soon, 1 sent most of my money home, and as Commissioned Officers 
don't draw U. S. rations I must send for .^30 of the needful. My letters 
are, I suppose, common property in the family, and my orders are 
addressed to my banker. 

Living out here is extraordinarily dear to Officers. A few of the 
simplest articles, such as are served to the men as rations, can be 
bought of the Commissary at cost, but all delicacies must be purchased 
at the Sutler's at an enormous price: — }-2 dollar cans of preserved 
meats and fruits, $l\ cheese, 50 cents; lemons, 2 for 2.5 cents; raisins, 
50 cents. To-day small 3-cent cakes of maple sugar were sold for 10 
cents; figs are 50 cents, and oi'dinary molasses cakes, 2 cents apiece. 

I do not think Ed. Hall experiences much warmer weather than 
we here. Snakes too are becoming quite frequent. Dodge, who is 
quite fond of reptiles, lately appeared at Head-quarters Avith a huge 
black snake. One of our men pulled an adder from his trousers-leg a 
few nights ago, and soon afterward a copperhead was discovered to 
have turned in along with two tent mates. Mosquitoes are less fre- 
quent here than at Fair Oaks, but every kind of insect abounds. 

The neglect of the sick here is shameful. An enlisted man 
■wounded is tolerably well cared for and allowed to go home. A sick 
man is retained at the hospital till he recovers or dies. Exceptions 
are very few. An otHcer can be discharged or sent home only on the 
Snrgeon's certificate tliat such discharge or recruiting is necessary. 
So we are bound to the service. If it were not so the regiments 



79 

would lose many of their best officers and great numbers of men. The 
law seems inhuman with respect to a few, but it is in the main un- 
doubtedly beneficial to the army. 

My best regards to all inquiring friends, for 1 have not forgotten a 
single one. Putnam is probably in Richmond. The whole company 
speak of his bravery and coolness. Manning found a hoi-se on the 
battle-field where he was seeking us, and comi)leted the journery on 
horseback. 

Your brother, Edgar. 

Enclosed T send you a receipt for a man who escaped from the 
Rebels, and with whom I was sent to the Provost Marshal, Gen. 
Andrew Porter. One of his staff gave me this receipt. 

In the following letter Xewcomb modestly discloses tlie cir- 
stances leading to Ills promotion. 

Camp nkak Harrison's Landing, 

August 2, 18(52. 
Dear Sister : 

How I envy you the enjoyment of cool Maiden and Mrs. Wise's 
house. However warm they may have seemed last summer, they are 
now to me the emblems of coolness and rest, as I lie sweltering under 
our Sibley in this lifeless climate. I have of late received letters from 
yourself from the beach and from Maiden. You wished me to record 
for the benefit of " us respectable " the brave deeds which have earned 
me promotion and reputation for a bravery which perhaps I do not 
possess. I did nothing except keep cool and obey orders. I didn't 
get excited, and for tliis received Conmiission. The sword and coat 
which I entrusted to one of our discharged men were confiscated at 
Fortress Monroe. Fate seems to discountenance my preserving many 
relics. Probably they would only minister to the pride of " us," and 
one of that family has enough now. Many of the things T lost I have 
drawn again, but they are not the ones I Itrought from Lynnfield. 

1 received mother's of Sunday last Thursday. Tell her that when 
I get a nigger, so that 1 can certify on honor to having a servant, I 
shall draw ^24.50, thus making my gross monthly receipts $105.50. 

Thursday about midnight we were waked by the firing of heavy 
guns on the river, and at once received orders to pack knapsacks, draw 
rations and be ready for a march, whither no one knew. "Within an 
hour, however, the tiring had sul>sided, the order been countermand- 
ed, and the men turned in again. Eumors are rife that we shall soon 



80 

go to Pope's reinforcement, perhaps even to Washington. Certainly 
we do not feel safe here. The enemy is all around us within a few 
miles on the opposite bank of the river; and below they line both 
banks. Our gunboats are our only dependence. But the fact that on 
these depend all our supplies, and that to run the gauntlet from Mon- 
roe (as every transport does) is an undertaking whose danger is daily 
increasing, makes one feel homesick. The rebels are not inactive, and 
if some tine day it was discovered that batteries enough lined the river 
to establish a blockade, cutting off our only means of supply and 
escape, we could not even " skedaddle." 

Mother's hopes of a speedy termination of our contest are undi- 
minished, I see, but if T return to her silver wedding it will only be as 
a wounded man, I fear, because we shall then be engaged in the fall 
campaign. But I shall visit home as soon as I can, for next January 
will tind the war still unfinished. May I prove a false prophet. 

An epistle to Leland is enclosed. Please forward. Manning was 
sent back to his company, but in less than 24 hours some friend pro- 
cured for him a position as clerk for the Division Commissary (Gen. 
Sedgwick's.) Truly he is a soldier of fortune. 

My love to all Maiden people, especially to the Wise family. 

Edgar. 

What is Webber's rank? Dodge sends this cannon cartridge-bag 
with his respects. I have received your needle-book. The cartridge- 
bag is from Yorktown. 

On August 14, Newcomb was transferred from Co. K to 
Co. C, and the reasons for tltis cliange are given in the next 
letter. The march down tlie Peninsula, is also chronicled. 

Nkwport News. 

AuCxUST 23, 1862. 
Dear Sister: 

You have doubtless before this learned our whereabouts from the 
papers, and become anions to hear from me« So I will begin with 
what first concerned me after my laSt letter. Last Thursday week 
Lieut. Hume returned from Richmond, having been exchanged. The 
Col. assigned him to Co. B; as I held his old position, 2d Lieut., Co. 
K, he objected and was assigned to Co. K, and I transferred to Co. 
C. Co. K. belonged to him rather than me; but the transfer, made 
without reference to my feelings, from Co. No. 1, in which I had just 



81 

became acquainted, was annoying in the extreme. However I am not 
permanently displeased. Capt. Batchelder of '59 is a kindred spirit, 
and before I had been 48 hours in the company I felt more at home 
than when I left Co. K. 

Tuesday Col. Ilinks returned to command the Brigade. For sev- 
eral days we had been ordered to draw rations and be ready to march 
at a moment's notice. Friday week marching orders came, and with 
them that Yoi-ktown was our destination. At 5 P. M., all was ready 
for the march, the men in line on parade, the baggage including knap- 
sacks going down the river in transports. Hour after hour passed, 
and we spread our blankets, lay down to sleep, and waked in the 
morning to find ourselves still on the parade. About 9 A. M. of Sat- 
urday, we marched. Truly the country around our camp is the 
garden of the Peninsula. The scenery is beautiful; the foliage, fruits 
and herbage luxuriant. We marched a few miles and halted for the 
night. Next day we marched 18 miles. As we neared the Chicka- 
hominy the country became more densely wooded, but lower and more 
sultry. At 9 P. M. we encamped on the river bank and rested, after 
the hardest work I had ever done of a Sunday. As the shadows 
lengthened, how I thought of home. You had returned from church, 
and sat in tlie parlor, or at the table, or on the piazza of Mr. Wise, 
happy in-peace and rest, and each other's society. I was far from all, 
hungry and weary, and covered with dust and sweat. Excepting the 
evil conscience I felt much like the prodigal son. 

Early next morning we crossed the river on a pontoon stretched 
across its mouth, and while we rested a few hours the Captain and 
myself bathed. Then we marched again, and in the afternoon halted 
by a millpond, a cornfield and a blackberryfield. Here let me men- 
tion that, whereas on our march to Winchester the troops did no 
damage for which oIKcers did not have to pay, this time we hardly 
passed orchard, cornlield or pig pen that was not cleaned out with 
impunity. 

Early next morning we marched, and about noon we passed 
through Williamsburg, a city in time of peace containing 5002 or 
6000 inhabitants, but now most of the houses are shut up, and few 
looked on us as we strode through their wide, sandy streets. Here is 
tlie College of William and Mary. ,Just outside the city are the forti- 
fications of the the rebels, which cost us so much the 5th of May last. 
The woods are scarred with shot and shell, and numerous graves 
saddened us all, when having passed the city of the living we found 
ourselves almost at once in the citv of the dead. But we go marchino- 



82 

on, and at nightfall halt by a pond, or as some say, Warwick river. 
Wednesday we start for Yorktown, now only 10 miles distant. Through 
suffocating dust and under an almost tropical sun, we had struggled 
along and our weary constant marching had begun to tell on the men, 
but they thought of the transports awaiting them at Yorktown, and 
saw the pure water of the York at our feet. Massachusetts boys feel 
deeply, but they are not so demonstrative as others. Still though 
fatigue and disciphne prevented cheering, we no sooner saw the scene 
and felt the cool salt breeze than a gush of joy welled up from every 
heart. Here we halted, and at once the river was black with human 
heads. Off rolled the dust in balls of thick mud, and all that alloyed 
our joy was returning to our wet and dirty clothes. Roast corn we 
had for dinner, and pork, and soft bread and tea, and then lay down 
at night, happy that our journey was ended. Vain delusion! About 
11 we were waked up to draw rations and prepare to march at day- 
oreak to Hampton, twenty odd miles. At day-break we started, and 
all day long we marched. Never had the sun been hotter, or the dust 
thicker. Few were the halts and quick the marching. Many were 
sun-struck, among them Lieut. Hill. Hundreds fell out, and when at 
last Gen. Sedgwick concluded to halt, we filed into the field at Big 
Bethel. Co. C had three men of the twenty-eight that answered to 
morning roll-call. Most of the regiment came in a few hours later, 
though some did not arrive till last night. About 2 Friday A. M., we 
began the seventh day of our march, and at 11 reached our present 
camping ground at Newport News. The rain which has been so long 
withheld during our stay at Harrison's Landing, and so long impend- 
ing during our dusty and burning march, fell in torrents during the 
last two miles of the march, and wet us through, so that even the 
refreshment of lying down after our week's work was for a while 
denied us, but by and by the sun came out and we rejoiced again. I 
had taken the precaution to stow away clean clothes in a team of extra 
baggage which met us here, and had the exquisite joy of feeling 
thoroughly renovated. 

How I leaped for joy at the news that my worldly possessions 
were safe at home — trunk, coat, watch, commission — an accumulation 
of good fortune absolutely stunning. My box, however, is not at 
hand. It came to Harrison's Landing with many others, as we were 
ordered to move, and the express company returned it to Fortress 
Monroe. There is a possibility of my never getting it in the bustle 
and change which for some time will accompany our Division. The 
cannon cartridge bag Dodge sent you contained powder to send a 



rebel ball against us, when it was found in Yorktown. The enclosed 
paper is a legal document I picked up on the first day of our march at 
Charles City Court House, which had been long ago evacuated by the 
limbs of the law who left behind them numerous papers like this. I 
visited the Court House, tavern and jail. 

There is much speculation about our future, and some probability 
of our going to North Carolina or I^ew Orleans, but nothing definite. 
I shall write as often as I can, and you need not fear to address me 
with equal frequency, for mails come to us as surely as ever. 

Your brother, Edgae. 

In the letter dated Sejjt. 1, will be found particulars in regard 
to the passage by transport to Alexandria ; then come the sad de- 
tails of forced marches, covering the retreat of Pope's defeated 
army. At length we find Edgar defending Fairfax Court House, 
which he first visited in boyhood, as previously stated. 

Fairfax Court House, 

Sept. 1, 1862. 
Dear Brother: 

Sunday, Aug. 24, we lay at Newport News, resting after our seven 
days' march. Monday at 9 A. M. we marched to the Landing and 
embarked on the steamship Atlantic. The roadstead was full of ship- 
ping, and in front of the Lauding lay the half sunken masts of the 
Cumberland, the unfortunate opponent of the Merrimack. Newport 
News is situated on a high bluff. Below flows the James with its fine 
sandy beach and heaps of oysters. Four regiments of our brigade 
were crowded aboard the Atlantic, 100 officers in the cabin, and 2000 
men wherever they could find place to stand. None knew our desti- 
nation. Tuesday morning we passed Hampton Roads, Monroe with 
its low gray walls, and late in the afternoon we anchored at Aquia 
creek for orders. The next morning we i^roceeded up river and 
anchored off Alexandria, where at 4 P. M. we disembarked, and after 
marching three miles halted in an open field just in time to experience 
the full force of a shower. * * Next day at 5 P. M. we were 
ordered to march seventeen miles to Chain Bridge. We marched till 
1 next A. M. , and bivouacked till 5. Then we marched to the vicinity 
of the bridge and halted till noon. We then marched ten miles to 
Tenallytown, 6 miles from Washington. Scores of our soldiers fell by 
the way, from fatigue and hunger; for since leaving Harrison's Land- 
ing they had had only one ration other than coffee and hard bread. 



84 

Their strength, enfeebled by peninsular experience, was more sorely 
taxed than ever before. Here at last may we rest, said they, as on 
Saturday night they broke ranks and lay down to sleep. Soon the 
officers' call sounded, and we received orders to march at 2 Sunday 
A. M., for Manassas. Promptly we started, and in the morning 
twilight crossed canal bridge, passing through Georgetown. It began 
to rain, and again we knew Virginia mud. At 7 we halted for break- 
fast one-half hour, and marched till 3 P. M., when we halted in an 
open field in the rain. As evening came on we hoped to sleep here, 
but conflicting reports having come from the front, Col. Hinks posted 
us in line of battle and sent for orders. At 9 we marched to Fairfax. 
Oh, the horrors of that march. Many were barefoot, most footsore, 
and all stiff from uninterrupted marching. When we halted, 100 
men remained of our whole regiment. We drew up in line of battle 
across the road, faced to the rear, for guerillas had attacked the train 
we passed a few hours before. To-day we rest, prepared however to 
repel attack and defend the two guns in front of the Court House. 
How much did father or mother think, when we entered Fairfax 
thirteen years ago, I should one day re-visit it to save it from destruc- 
tion? * * After moving hither and thither till we could hardly 
move longer, hoping each day would bring the long-desired and 
promised rest, we started at midnight to cover a third retreat. To-day 
I have eaten and rested, but it will take weeks to recover from fatigue 
and privation. Rumor has it we shall go to Poolesville, and while I 
write Banks' column is pressing up to Harper's Ferry. The men, 
newly-recruited are worse than useless. They cannot fight, for they 
are not drilled. Consequently the few old troops must do most of the 
duty, and wherever Jackson goes we must move to meet him. 

I have heard of Mr. Stone's acceptance of the Chaplaincy of the 
4.5th to regiment, and admii'e his patriotism. Our Captain's name is 
George W. liatchelder; 1st Lieutenant, Samuel S. Prime. I am glad 
to hear that you tried sleeping in the open air and found it less agree- 
able than you anticipated. Perliaps if you sleep without tent or 
rubber blanket, and in the rain, you would like it less. 1 am heartily 
o-lad you are resigned to your position in the home guard and fire 
department. Direct the box "Sumner's Corps, Sedgwick's Division, 
Dana's Brigade," not writing Washington or any other place. 
[Extract from a letter written early in Sept., 1862.] 

The fresh troops are worse than useless. They don't know how 
to fight, and the shadow of an enemy makes them run. No reliance 
whatever is put in them, and though doul)tleR in time they will 



85 

become veterans, they are now only fit to garrison the forts about 
Washington. For instance, they are picketed along the road to Chain 
Bridge, and many troops having passed over the road during the day, 
some stragglers whom night had overtaken hastened on in the dark- 
ness to rejoin their regiments. The pickets immediately gave the 
alarm and fled. The garrison was called out in readiness to save the 
fort from rebel hands. Nor were the facts known till we explained 
them on coming up next morning. The contempt of our men for 
these " gingerbread soldiers " is as amusing as it is intense. 

You doubtless M^ant to know how I bore the trying times of last 
week. All I can say is I marched it and did not fall out. Never 
before was I so completely used up. But now we are near the front 
and we shall not retreat. We cannot go much further forward. At 
any moment we may be attacked, and the sound of cannon-firing is 
almost as constant as the rattling of baggage wagons and ambulances, 
which constantly pass us night and day. Since Friday we have not 
had six successive hours when we were not marching. Saturday 
A. M., we rose at 2. Sunday it rained, and after marching almost 
beyond human endurance we fell asleep between wet blankets. 
To-night it rains again, and Lee's whole left wing is reported to be 
marching on us. Certainly it doesn't promise rest. People say I am 
an exception in preserving and increasing health. Manning's consti- 
tution is impaired perhaps for life. Barrows is much weaker than a 
year ago, and most of my acquaintances seem to have lost somewhat 
of their former vigor. 

We again find tlie 19th Mass. and another regiment assigned 
to the responsible, dangerous and lionorable ])Osition of rear guard. 

Tenallytown, Sept. 4, 1862. 
Lee's whole force didn't come down upon us, though a severe 
rainstorm did, and we spent a quiet night on the wet ground and 
under wet blankets. Towards morning it was bitter cold. About 10 
A. M. Tuesday, we fell back into an immense field where cavalry, 
artillery and infantry were huddled together. Here we passed the 
3<Sth N. Y., but though the regiment had been engaged the night 
before, I might not stop to see Alonzo. At the further end of the 
field we halted till 6 P. jSI., and then followed in the rear of the rear- 
most regiment. liefore we had reached the protecting wood the 
enemy had planted their guns behind us, and we could readily see 
them protected by numerous cavalry on the very spot we had left not 
fifteen minutes before. Thick and fast flew the shell, bursting in 



86 

front and rear, beside and over us, and we were hindered by the 
crowded columns before us. Three men of Co. C were hit but not 
hurt by spent pieces of shell. By this time we had learned that our 
19th and the 1st Minnesota formed the rear guard, an honor well to 
be proud of. Thus we lay in the woods alongside the battery, the 
Minnesota a few hundred yards in front of us. Soon a terrible volley 
rang through the woods and Gen. Howard rode along with " get 
ready, boys, to repel a cavalry charge." But the Minnesota's steadi- 
ness and two shells from our battery discouraged Secesh, and we soon 
continued our retreat, halting again behind a fence. Reb however 
didn't follow any further, and we marched on. Just this side of 
Vienna a panic was created by a runaway horse. Some officers fired 
at him or into the air. Cavalry in front became frightened and swept 
down the road like a whirhvind, firing right and left. AVe heard the 
discharges, and seeing the masses in front rush from the road, and 
hearing the clattering of hoofs grow louder and louder, we imitated 
those in front, and in a twinkling were hid behind the trees. The 
106th Pennsylvania carried us bodily by their impulse. 



"THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE." 

But in the tent that night, awake, 

I ask if in the fraj' I fall, 
Can I the mystic answer make, 

When the angel sentries call ? 
And pray that Heaven may so ordain. 

Where'er I go, what fate be mine, 
Whether in pleasure or in pain, 

I still may have the countersign. 

FITZ-.IAMES o'bUIEN. 

The Army of the Potomac fought few battles more critical 
than that which for long anxious hours hung in the balance upon 
the banks of the sluggish Antietam. The importance of the issue 
was appreciated by officers and men. Each of the opposing armies 
prepared for a tremendous and decisive struggle. After exhaust- 
ing marches and untold dei)rivaiions, rendered still more serious 
by stubborn preliminary conflicts in a mountainous region, the 
hostile forces faced each other in the vicinity of Sharpsburg. On 
the night of September 16, 1862, while the destiny of a nation 
remained undecided, and while the fate of a multitude of soldiers 
was obviously impending, it is not strange that the minds of the 
combatants were imbued with unusual solemnity. Lossing remarks 



that "the night of the 16th was passed by both armies with the 
expectation of a heavy battle in the morning. Few officers found 
relief from anxiety, for it was believed by many that it might be 
the turning point of the war. Only the Commander-in-chief of 
the National army seems to have had a lofty faith that all would 
be well. The contest Avas opened at dawn by Hooker with about 
18,000 men." 

The following incident is kindly related by Capt. William A . 
Hill : " On one occasion, Newcorab told me afterwards, his Cap- 
tain (George W. Batchelder, another noble fellow) asked him as 
they were about ' turning in' for the night, on the eve of the bat- 
tle of Antietam, to read a chapter aloud. Newcomb complied, 
and Avas asked to continue until he had, by the light of the bivouac 
fire, read several chapters ; then under the same blanket they lay 
down to rest, Capt. Batchelder to his last sleep upon earth, for he 
was killed in battle on the following day; Newcomb to answer the 
summons in the next battle, Fredericksburg. 

After Batchelder died Newcomb told me of the incident 
stated above, and told me how surprised he was at the Captain's 
request, and how happy it made him to comply. After the read- 
ing and before they slept, Batchelder, as if forewarned of the fate 
which he was to meet in a feAV hours, talked as he never had be- 
fore to Newcomb, in regard to the affairs of the company ; telling 
him among other things of certain money, the ' Company Fund,' 
Avhich he had from time to time sent home to his father in Lynn 
for safe keeping ; advising him in regard to matters pertaining to 
the company, and making in general such arrangements as one 
would make if taking leave of them forever." 

In his letters to friends at home Lieut. Newcomb makes no 
reference to this touching scene ; but Mrs. M. W. Batchelder, in 
the Harvard Memorial Biographies^ acknowledges the receipt of a 
letter from him, containing the following passage : "After supper 
in the twilight of September 16, George took my Bible, and as well 
as I can recollect, read aloud portions of the 19th and 90th Psalms. 
Sweet was that evening communion : it was our last. The chief 
end of God's providence is to teach men ; and the value of its 



lessons is generally according to their difficulty. ITow golden the 
knowledge, how sweet the joy we may work out from this great 
sorrow. We had hoped for George a glorious future. Shall it be 
less bright because not wrought out in our ])resence?" 

Capt. Hill writes : " The enemy was following us closely at the 
time George was wounded, and we were obliged to leave him on 
the field in the care of James H. Heath, a young man of his com- 
pany. He fainted several times while being taken to the hospital. 
He conversed freely and cheerfully until between 3 and 4 o'clock 
the same day, when he began to fail ; and continued to sink rapidly 
till he passed quietly from the sleep of life to the sleep of death, 
being conscious to the last. His last words were ' My mother, 
oh, my mother'." His brother Charles died 8 days before (Sept. 9) 
of fever " brought on by being Avorn out at the battle of Baton 
Rouge. On the 5th of November, as the sha<les of evening were 
falling upon the earth, they were together laid to rest in a soldier's 
grave." 

The death of a multitude of Union soldiei's at Antietam was 
not in vain. President Lincoln had long been waiting for a Fed- 
eral victory, and on Sept. 22, 1862, issued a proclamation declaring 
that the slaves of all persons in States which, on first day of Jan- 
uary, 1863, should be in rebellion, should be thenceforth and 
forever free. By this noble act President Lincoln " rose to the 
serene heights of Zion, received light and knowledge and power 
from an Eternal Source, fixed by a word the moral judgment of 
mankind in sympathy with our national cause, secured the verdict 
of history and the prayers of the good in every land, and humbly 
awaited the favor of Almighty God." 

The gallant part takeii by the 19th Mass. is recorded in a 
letter written on the day after the battle. It will be noticed that, 
after Capt. Batchelder was wounded (the First Lieut, being sick) 
Lieut. Newcomb was in connnand of Co. C. during the closing 
hours of the eventful conflict. He does not forget to mention the 
gallant conduct of the men ; and, as will afterward appear, his 
own bravery was remembered by others. 



89 

Near Keedysville, 

Sept. 18, 18G2. 
Dear Sister: 

My last letter was written from Ilyattstown and mailed in Wash- 
ington by our Sutler. Next day we marched again in three columns, 
the centre one passing through the town; ours, the left one, passing 
through the fields outside. A hot and dusty march brought us to 
Clarkeville', I believe; near which we passed the night and proceeded 
toward Frederick. The railroad bridge had l)een burned by the rebels, 
though strangely enough the highway bridge across the same stream 
(Monocacy) remained intact. The telegraph was down the whole 
way along. Near Frederick we halted and formed for review. 
McClellan and staff rode along and halted in the city till all the troops 
passed him. Frederick is the largest town I have seen in Maryland, 
except Baltmore, having brick buildings and sidewalks, and churches 
and stores. As we marched down the main street the Stars and 
Stripes were flung from many places, and happy homelike faces beamed 
on us. Five days of rebel possession had disgusted them and impov- 
erished them, so that they were glad enough to hail their deliverers. 
The rebels had cleaned out stores and dwellings of whatever provision 
they could find, paying for them, if they paid at all, in Confederate shin 
plasters. But as soon as we approached, the people began to cook for 
us, bringing out as we passed, cake, pie and bread. We halted and 
passed the night a mile beyond Frederick, and Sunday, [Sept. 14,] at 
3 A. M., marched on. Now we began to ascend the mountains in 
good earnest. The roads were good, but the hills were steep enough. 
We heard sharp artillery firing ahead, and pressed on. As we arrived 
at the summit of a hill somewhat higher than the rest, commanding 
an extensive view of the ground in front, we saw all at once the two 
lines of the opposing cannon, as the white smoke rolled from their 
muzzles 5 or 6 miles distant. Onward we hastened and about 3 
P. M., halted in a field and cooked our late dinner. At dusk we 
marched again to a point within two miles of the rebel pickets, and 
Monday morning pushed onward. At the top of the ridge is a gap 
where the rebels had made their stands Sunday. Here during a short 
halt I visited the 13th who lay on the other side the road, and saw 
George. He is looking finely, has had plenty of marching since he 
came here, and the regiment was ordered to throw away their knap- 
sacks the night before, in immediate anticipation of a fight, but they 
escaped it. George did not recognize me at first. He said I had 
changed so. We separated when he marched on after the flying foe. 



90 

About noon we passed through Boonesboro, where a lew hours before 
our cavalry had charged and routed rebel cavalry. Here too people 
gave us food and drink as we passed through Keedysville, and en- 
camped three-quarters of a mile beyond. All day Tuesday the artillery 
tight lasted. McClellan with his staff rode to the top of a hill over- 
looking the scene, and after carefully inspecting the rebel position 
turned to one of his officers remarking: " Col., we shall have a 
severe light liere, and lose many men. They have a very strong 
position." 

At 2 Wednesday morning [Sept. 17,] reveille sounded. Soon 
artillery and musketry began, and by 6 the rebels had retired one 
and one-half miles or so. At 7 we were onlered to Hooker's support. 
Over ploughed land, through cornfields we marched; through a brook 
kneedeep we waded. Over fences and through woods Gen'ls. Sumner, 
Sedgwick, Dana, Howard and Gorman accompanied us, and skir- 
mishers in front and on the flank saw the coast clear as we advanced. 
After a temporary lull the rattle of musketry recommenced, and 
forward we went. Soon one of our men, struck by a spent ball on 
the cross belt, staggered back, and thinking he was wounded dropped 
his gun and made for the rear. As he went he looked for the wound, 
and finding only a bruise returned amid acclamations to his post in 
the front rank. We climbed a fence and entered woods again; not 
the woods of Chickahominy swamp with stiffled air and close-tangled 
undergrowth in the black stagnant marsh, but a growth of large forest 
trees and firm ground underfoot and spreading branches above, 
through which played mountain air. In the woods we lay down and 
watched the lines in front, as they stood firing at the rebels hid in a 
cornfield before them. Suddenly we beheld them slowly retreat. On 
they came over our prostrate line, crying, " they have flanked us ;" 
but we lay quiet, waiting for orders. [That you may understand what 
flanking means, remember a line of battle is composed of many regi- 
ments joining each other end to end, and extending for miles. If one 
regiment gives away, or leaves an}^ distance ])etween it and the one 
next to it, thei*e is great danger to the whole line; for the enemy en- 
ters the gap, and pours a fire at once in front and rear.] Soon we 
perceived bullets in our rear. The order was given to retreat, and 
after every other regiment except the Minnesota 1st had retired, we 
slowly retreated, firing as we went. Again and again, and at every 
command of the officers we formed; but the fire was so hot, the whole 
field across which we retreated after leaving the wood was strewed 
with men. Col. Hinks was dangerously wounded; Capts. Rice, 



91 

Batchelder aud Hale also. Our 1st Lieut, is sick in Hospital, and I 
am left in command of the Co. We retired behind a stone wall and 
formed, determined to stand; but orders came to retreat, and we re- 
treated till further. The rebels dared not follow us, and after one- 
half hour we took our present position, still holding ground from 
which the foe were driven, but a short distance in rear of our original 
position. We now number about 200, having lost seven officers, of 
whom, only our Captain by death. The Captain was struck by a 
piece of shell, just as we rallied the last time in the open field, tearing 
open his leg almost from knee to ankle. In the haste of the retreat 
he was left behind, but so soon as we halted two men volunteered to 
go back after him. The rebels themselves had just left and the Cap- 
tain was recovered. He had lost so much blood the surgeons deemed 
it imprudent to amputate, and last night he died. After a long search 
I found his grave this morning. Another friend had written his name 
on a pine slab, and a third gone in search of an embalmer. His corpse 
will probably soon be home. Genl's Sumner, Sedgwick, Dana, 
Richardson, Mansfield and others are wounded. A messenger leaves 
at once. I cannot finish. 

Edgar. 

Remarkable and untiring industry, as well as warm affection 
for friends at Jiome, prompted the writing of so long a letter im- 
mediately after a tremendous battle. 



OUR HERO IS COMMISSIONED FIRST LIEUTENANT. 

Newcomb's deserved promotion after the battle is chronicled 
by one of his comrades as follows : " At Antietani he won his 
rank of First Lieutenant, and to have lived through the ordeal of 
that day was to have come from the very jaws of death." 

Ca])t. Stephen I. Newman also refers to Edgar's promotion 
" for bravery at Antietani, Md." 

It was not until Oct. 13 that Edgar received the news of his 
advancement, the commission to date from Sept. 11. 

Bolivar, Oct. 14, '62. 
Dear Charlie: 

I was not intending to write again before next Sunday, but " cir- 
cumstances alter cases." I was informed yesterday of my promotion 
to 1st Lieut., Co. C, to date from Sept. 11. The pay is only $6 per 
month greater, but the increased distinction and the brevity of my 2d 



92 

Lieutenancy, together with the surprise I felt at the news, make it 
very pleasant to me, and, 1 know, to you. Please send me by next 
mail two sets shoulder-straps (1st Lieut. 's) of the same pattern as 
those sewed on my coat and blouse by James «S: Co, Since Col. 
Devereux's return we have drilled very severely in battalion -move- 
ments. He is the only man in the regiment now competent to handle 
us. No news of any importance. Our mess proceeds finely, and all 
hands unite in praise of the caterer and cook. Vague rumors are 
afloat that we are to return to Massachusetts to recruit. Every one 
connected with the Regiment will devote his whole influence to that 
end, but the result is doubtful. God grant that we may, and I for one 
will enjoy U. S. service as I have never before. * * But, whatever 
the event, remember it is all for the best, and in its own natural 
tendency will make us more perfect men and Christians. I am 
anxiously expecting my box, and if you have not sent it, direct to 
Harper's Ferry. The call sounds for dress parade, and I must bid 
you good-bye. Paymaster has not come yet. 

Edgar M. Newcomb, 

1st Lieut. Commanding Co. C, 19th Mass. Vols. 

Bolivar, Oct. 27, 1862. 
Dear Sister: 

Enclosed I send my shadow to you. It is not yet one half hour 
old and is tolerably faithful; but 1 am not " cockeye," and the picture, 
to use a comrade's phrase, " is not Newcomb." As 1 look at it I can 
remember how I looked last February, and note that 9 month's cam- 
paigning has wrought some change, whether for better or worse 1 
dare not judge. 

Since my last letter I have received the shoulder-straps and Mr. 
Stone's sermon. All give perfect satisfaction. I laughed as I read 
of your contemplated gift to my company. It has gradually swelled 
from 12 to 20; from 20 to 34. Yet whatever gift you send will be 
gladly and gratefully received. 

We have our petition to go home forwarded to Washington witli 
McClellan's endorsement, " unable at present to give it my favorable 
consideration." Our only hope now is to get oint Garrison or 
Winter Quarters, so far from the scene of active operations as to 
render leaves of absence once more possible. 

It is getting quite cool. Oflicers have wall tents with stoves; but 
the ' poor soldiers,' shelter-tents under which they lie all night exposed 
to cold. Moreover, orders have been issued forbidding the issue of 



93 

clothing or ammunition to Sumner's Corps at present; by which many 
of us are left unprovided with shirts, drawers, shoes, stockings, over- 
coats, or even blankets. Nor is there any means of procuring them. 

Yesterday we went on picket. For the tirst time since we arrived 
at Fairfax, two months ago, it rained all day. The men without shel- 
ter or suflicient clothing suffered much from wet and cold, though not 
so much as before Yorktown. We may go South this winter; or into 
Winter Quarters in Pleasant Valley, Md., some five miles from here; 
or into Garrison around Baltimore or AVashington. The fact that 
clothing is withheld (probably for troops that go forward) gives prob- 
ability to either of the last two. Rumors are rife, nothing is known. 

Often I dream of home by night, and my thoughts of it by day 
are only marred by knowing Father is sick. Give Webber my con- 
gratulations at having been a successful charmer, and thank him for 
his frequent notes. * * Manning was well the last I saw of him. 
Col. Devereux and Capt. Plympton, whom mother will remember, 
have their wives out here. 

Your brother, Edgar. 

The army of the Potomac continued its march to Falmouth, 
nearly opposite Fredericksburg; and items of interest will be 
found in Newcomb's letters. 

Warrenton, Va., Nov. 10, 1862. 
Dkar Brother: 

My last letter was written from Paris, Va., since which we have 
marched by easy stages and without opposition to our present camp, 
where we arrived yesterday. Early this morning we fell in, to see 
McClellan as he rode along our lines for the last time. From every 
quarter poured living masses of men, till both sides of the road were 
lined. On every hill-top were planted batteries. As he approached 
the regiments dipped their colors and presented ai'ms. Immediately 
the salute was exchanged for three rousing cheers and salvos of 
artillery. The great commander wept like a child, and the great 
army, his creature, have shed more tears to-day than ever before dur- 
ing the eighteen months of their trying expei-ience. Neither the 
government nor the country have any idea what a hold little Mac. has 
on our hearts. He may have erred, undoubtedly has, but we believe 
there is no one who can fill his post of duty, as there is no one who 
can fill his place in our hearts. Most foully has he been wronged, 
and the army will not be slow to resent it. * * We believe that ere 
long the nation will recall McClellan, but it will cost months of toil 



94 

and millions of money to repair this error. If McClellan wished to 
establish himself Supreme Dictator to-day, the army in the heat of 
tlieir resentment of this wrong would be with him. 

We shall probably remain here only a few days. If you have not 
sent the box, add to the list one-half dozen silk handkerchiefs, a 
sponge in a rubber bag, and the Atlantic Monthly for October and 
November, and send as soon as possible. I shall probably send this 
by the Drum Major of our regiment. The package in paper contains 
my shoes which have seen all the hard service from Nelson's Farm to 
Antietam. The haversack and contents belong to Capt. Batchelder. 
Please see that they are sent to his father at Lynn. 

In haste, Edgar. 

The following descriptive letter favors us with glimpses of 
Edgar's poetic taste. 

Near Falmouth, 

Nov. 27, 1862. 
Dear Sister: 

Day before yesterday I forwarded my Corporal's and Sergeant 
Major's warrants, which you have doubtless received. They both 
need the Col.s, signature, which I shall prize all the more highly 
because written with his wounded arm. The warrant in my trunk is 
on paper, and therefore inferior to this on parchment. Charlie will 
doubtless preserve them in safety. 

It will probably interest you to know how I spent this day. I 
awoke about 7 A. M. with a "bursting" headache. The day was 
bright and wami, though it had frozen during the night. Breakfasted 
on riapjacks of peculiar construction. Flour being very scarce, I had 
procured 5 lbs. at the rate of $20 per barrel, and mixed with a small 
portion an equal bulk of powdered hard tack; frying in a spider, and 
eating with pork fat and sugar. 

Procured a pass to Falmouth, and at 9 A. M. started for the vil- 
lage a mile distant. A neighboring height diverted me, and I ascend- 
ed it to find a battery of six Parrotts commanding the town, the river 
and the country beyond. Following the ridge of hills I soon came 
upon another batteiy. In fact a succession of batteries protects us 
now, threatens all the open country on the other side the river, and 
will cover our advance in the future. The left bank of the river is 
high, and commands Fredericksburg and the whole country around 
for two or more miles from the river. Every road and field and mov- 
ing thing can be clearly discerned for that distance, owing to the 
unbroken nature of the ground and the absence of woods. 



95 

At the edge of this stretch, however, the country is well wooded, 
and from among the tree-tops rises the smoke of numerous rebel 
encampments. In one place the naked eye can discern a dark heap, 
which the glass reveals to be 1000 rebel troops hard at work on a heavy 
fortification. I continued down the river to a point opposite Freder- 
icksburg. The Rappahannock is hardly wider than the Charles at 
Watertown. All along this bank lie our pickets in posts of three or 
four, the posts thirty paces from each other. All along the further 
bank, and so near that conversation is quite easy, lie the rebel pickets. 
Almost within stone's throw of each other pace the sentries of the 
two armies, ready to give the alarm at any hostile demonstration. 

Falmouth on the left bank is a small village with two or three 
churches. Fredericksburg, on the right bank a mile below, is the 
second city of Virginia, with seven churches. We see the sentries as 
they pace the streets leading down to the river; and men, women and 
children as they cross them on their diif erent errands ; we hear the 
blacksmith at work in his shop, and the rattle of vehicles in the 
streets; but the bridges are all gone, the ferry boat locked on the other 

side, and the river separates us from something. As I stood 

upon the heights looking down ii\to the city, I wished I had all the 
inmates of fifty-six [Worcester street, Boston] to look with me. 
Could this be war? The peaceful city, beautiful country and quiet 
river, even the smoke of the camp and picket fires curling slowly 
upward, betoken no strife. The few white tents in sight look inno- 
cent enough. The sunlight plays with the sentry's bayonet, and even 
the frowning cannon seem but as the shade necessary to perfect the 
picture. Perhaps it is all a delightful dream, and I wished again that 
all at home might see and enjoy. 

But the quiet is only seeming, and before to-morrow morning 
300,000 men may be struggling fqr the mastery, and river and city 
and country become the hospital and grave of the children of strife. 
We wait here only till the railroad is finished, so that transportation 
shall not fail us. This land is given over to Secessia; and its inhabi- 
tants, who gave liberally to rebels, either refuse to sell, or demand 
enormous prices for provisions. This morning I paid twenty-five 
cents for a head of cabbage. 

Returning home I dined on fried liver and mackerel, which my 
cook found by chance, and potatoes. Our mess is dissolved by mutual 
agreement till we go again into camp, but that I might not feed alone, 
I invited a fellow-officer to dine with me, and we dined, thinking, 
however, of home all the time. Next year may we be together again. 



96 

* * Just eaten supper, fritters of hard tack. When I come home 1 shall 
cook several camp-dishes if you all agree to eat them with me. Hard 
tack and pork alone, with sugar and salt to flavor, can be made into 
six different dishes. It will not cost me much to live when 1 get 
home ; and if father forbids the house, I can take my blanket and 
tent, pitch the latter in the street before fifty-six, and lay me down to 
sleep with a clear conscience and a good digestion. Charlie may sleep 
with me, if he will bring the wood and water. A tin plate and dipper 
will form my cooking kit, and a dollar's worth of hard tack will last 
us a month. 

But we cannot always realize our schemes of Utopia, and I will 
go no further. Mother's letter of Nov. 9 I have not received, and 
suppose it is lost. Yours written in Park street vestry is at hand. In 
your next send me some stamps. A copy of the Lynn Reporter, 

Nov. 15, has reached me. Love to all. 

Edgar. 

Near Falmouth, 

Nov. 27, 1862. 
DearBro.: 

Yours of reached me, and I was highly pleased with its en- 
thusiastic spirit. At the first, I was about to return an unconditional 
refusal. I wanted you much, but the bivouac and the battlefield are 
not places for a civilian. Later I decided to send for you, but know- 
ing that it was next to impossible for any one nol in the U. S. service 
to reach us, that part of the way was so infested with guerrillas that 
(Japt. Merritt still lingers at Washington; and that before you could 
possibly reach us we expect to be across the river and pursuing the 
enemy by longer marches than you could make in pursuit of us; I 
finally decided to wait a few weeks till we can see how things are to 
work. If we (or only I) return, I don't want you here now. If we 
tiee before Johnny, I don't want you any way. But if we are to 
campaign this winter, or to go into winter quarters here, you shall 
visit me; and if there is any probability of our entering Richmond, 
you shall enter with the liith. The expense now of coming here and 
returning would be about .i?50, and if we moved while you are coming, 
infinitely more. But so soon as the railroad is completed, and the first 
rush of transportatioii over, and the impending battle in this quarter 
fought, I shall be most happy to give you a soldier's entertainment. 
Now content yourself till after New Year's at farthest, and I will 

try to accommodate you. 

Edgar. 



97 

The Rev. James C. Fernald contributes a pleasant paragraph 
written by Capt. John C. Chad wick : " Some of my most profitable 
hours have 1 spent in his [Newcomb's] company while in our tent, 
or log house, after the day's duties were done. These were the 
hours in which he delighted to speak of his beautiful home, as he 
termed it, as well as of the temptations of camp-life and the re- 
gard he felt for the spiritual welfare of brother officers and fellow 
soldiers." At this time Capt. Chadwick was in command of Co. C. 



A PROVIDENTIAL PILGRIMAGE. 

Near Falmouth, 

Nov. 30, 1862. 
Dear Brother: 

Col. Devereux is ordered to haye his men log their tents, and 
therefore I infer a longer stay here than was at first expected. I 
should be most happy to have you visit me before Christmas. There- 
fore, if you wish to come, take the cars at B. & W. R. R. Depot, Mon- 
day, Dec. 8, at 8 A. M., buying a through ticket to Washington, where 
you will arrive Tuesday morning, Dodd's Express conveying you 
through N. Y. At the Provost Marshal's office, corner I and 19th 
streets, Washington, you will procure a pass to the 19th Regiment at 
Falmouth. At « A. M. , boat leaves foot of 6th street (where you 
arrive by horse railroad) for Aquia creek, where you take rail to Fal- 
mouth, U.S., furnishing transportation from W. to F. Before you 
leave, see if Harnden & Co. will soon send my box up. Come Mon- 
day, or at any rate Tuesday. * * Now don't encumber yourself 
with baggage. Send word Saturday, if you start Monday. I will 
meet you if I can; if not, find first Howard's Division, Couch's Corps; 
then Hall's Brigade (formerly Dana's) ; then the 19th Mass. Remem- 
ber brass and patience eventually succeed, but you will have a hard 
time to find me. Better go to the Provost Marshal's office at Fal- 
mouth and inquire the way to the corps and division. If I am not at 
home use my tent till I come. Don't forget to dress warm. You 
have now all the help I can give you this side of Falmouth. May we 

meet before long. 

Edgar. 

The importance of this visit will appear on a subsequent 
page. 



98 

Near Falmouth, 

Nov. 30, 1862. 
Dear Father: 

I did not expect to write again so soon when 1 last wrote, but 
circumstances alter, and man is the creature of circumstance. We 
shall remain here for some weeks, and as we must work this winter, 
I shall probably be unable to come home. I have sent for Charlie to 
come and visit me, hoping at once to enjoy his society, to benefit his 
health, and to give him some idea of a soldier's life. Believe me, a 
week or two of our experience will not strengthen his love of camping 
out, though it will greatly improve his health. He cannot visit us 
under more favorable circumstances. The weather is tolei'ably mild; 
the camp is well located. While he can see rebeldom and an army in 
the field, he will be perfectly safe from harm. * * How long he 
will stay depends, but unless you wish otherwise he will be home be- 
fore Christmas, if he comes immediately. I received this morning 
your letter enclosing .$10, for which thanks. I wish I had you all 
here, but as that is impossible, lend me for a while my brother. We 
are quite busy. Inspections, Division, Brigade and Regimental drills, 
occupy us. The regiment is now on the bayonet exercise which we 
began last winter. Charlie will be a good hand to forage for " spuds " 
(potatoes) and hoe cakes, and if time passes heavily we can drill him. 
No more to-night. It is after taps when all lights should be out, and 
I am Officer of the Guard to-morrow, and will have to keep awake all 
night. Charlie must wear his watch. 

Edgar. 

The following letter contains a loyal request in regard to " a 
most precious treasure." It is needless to add that the sacred 
memento has been carefully guarded. Concerning the army letters 
and their contents Edgar's sister writes : " I prize tliem more 
than most anything else among my possessions." These words 
were penned more than twenty years after her brother, the gallant 
christian soldier, had entered the shining ranks of the Heavenly 
host. 

Near Falmouth, 

Dec. 7, 1862. 

Again, dearest sister, do I write with pencil, but only because 
Captain is gone and Eddie doesn't know where to find the ink. We 
still remain in camp, and as you learn by the daily paper more news 



99 

than I can tell you, I will go on to relate what there may be of inter- 
est in my own* unpublished history. 

I am growing very fat, so fat that I am actually lazy; and climb- 
ing a steep hill or chopping wood puts me out of breath. I weigh 
162 without overcoat. Our tent is now logged to the eaves, and yes- 
terday we (I included) built a fire-place two and one-half feet square 
in the side, of sticks lined with rocks and mud, plastered chimney 6f 
course outside, like all Virginia chimneys. It is as cold here as it was 
last winter when I was at home, and we only keep warm by thinking 
how much colder is Johnny Ecb without coat, blanket or shoes— a 
barbarous way of warming oneself, but quite successful. Not long 
ago we went on picket, and I slept in a kind of storehouse built of 
rails and cornstalks, and floored with the same. It was delicious after 
months of sleeping on the ground. 

You were undoubtedly surprised at my sending for Charlie, but 
I knew it would do him good, and longed to share with him for a few 
weeks my luxuries. What an old man I shall be on my return; how 
sated with all the pleasures of this life. I had not then seen Burn- 
side's order prohibiting all civilians from coming here without passes; 
but if Charles has started, as I hope he has, he cannot fail to see me 
with his ordinary perseverance. He will see the President sooner. 
If I knew his address at Washington, I might send him a pass from 
Sumner. But if by some mischance he should fail to reach me, the 
visit and the sights of Washington will ample repay him for his time, 
trouble, disappointment an<l expense. If he succeeds, two weeks of 
camping out will probably loose the charm of being a soldier from his 
bright fancy. I wish I could have you all here, but I reckon that be- 
sides extra tents and blankets we should need an extra physician. 

I received a letter from Mrs. Batchelder not long ago, mentioning 
your visit and inquiring after C4eorge's sword, &c. I answered her at 
once; among other things, that the sword blade returned was his, 
and that he received all the attention I should ask for my owu brother 
under such circumstances. Letters from yourself. Mother and Web- 
ber have been duly received. I enclose a letter written by one 
" Edward," as also the envelope. It was neither written nor directed 
to me, yet the reading of it, according to a way they have in the army 
with other people's letters, gave me much gratification. 

My box is still in Washington. Perhaps I shall get it by Christ- 
mas. I return that beautiful poem on our flag. Keep it for me. 
Have you seen the flags? If not, go at once to the State House, and 
in Gen. Schouler's office you will see them. Then imagine me with 



100 

waving sword and lusty voice, making myself hoarse in the cause of 
Victory; and with some exaggeration you have Newcornb as he ap- 
peared, &C. 

One of our men has just given me a piece of the tattered flag 
which he picked up at the Antietam. Keep it, for it is a most precious 
treasure. 'Tis our State flag. Lieut. Hiuks sends his regards. Capt. 
Merritt is still in Washington. * * The pants I put on about the 
1st of Sept. are worn out. Hereafter till we reach at least a place of 
rest, I shall wear the pants of enlisted men. 

I have spent the day reading the Bible, newspapers and army 
regulations, and thinking of home. And now my powers wane and I 
bid you good night, my own precious Leila. 

Tell Mrs. Batchelder that the man who helped George from the 
.field was Benjamin Falls. 



THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG. 

"And they shall he as when a standard-bearer fainteth." Isiah X. 18. 
" We shall but die.". 2 Kings. VII. 4. 

" For rae to live is Christ, and to die is jja'i-" Pliilippians I. 21. 
" In the midst of life we are in death." Burial service. 

We have seen that the Army of tlie Potomac, under General 
Burnside, was encamped near the Rappahannock. On the op- 
posite hank of the river was the Army of Northern Virginia, 
commanded by General Lee. Years after the battle James D. 
Blackwell composed the appropriate stanzas given below : 

Bright river! How oft has thj- swift-gliding wave 

Drauk deep of the Ijlood of the true and the brave -, 

And th\ banks, fringed wiili woodlands, re-echoed afar 

The tread of vast legions, the thunders of war. 

But the combat is ended, the storm hath passed o'er. 

And thy waters with life-blood are crimsoned no more ; 

But long shall their murmurs in memory tell 

Of the heroes who fouglit, and the martyrs who fell. 

On his arrival at Falmouth the Union commander considered 
a further advance impossible until the railroad in his rear was 
repaired. lie was also delayed by the absence of pontoons, until 
the Confederate forces had strongly fortified the heights beyond 
Fredericksburg. Meanwhile the cry of the nation, " On to Rich- 
mond," was continually ringing in his ears, and he determined to 
make a desperate effort. At length the pontoons were brought 



101 

to the brink of the river long before daybreak on Thursday, 
December 11, more than three weeks after Sumner's Corps reached 
Fahnouth. " Two signal shots broke the stillness which reigned 
through the Confederate lines. These were the signal for Long- 
street's Corps to concentrate upon the threatened j»oint." 

Listen ! Agaiu the shrill-lipped bugles blow, 

Where the swift currents of the river flow 

Past Fredericksburg i far off the heavens are red 

With sudden conflagration : on yon height, 

Linstock in hand, the gunners hold their breath : 

A signal-rocket pierces the dense night, 

Flings its spent stars upon the town beneath : 

Hark! — the artillery massing on the right : 

Hark ! — the black squadrons wheeliug down to death ! 

Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

The war correspondent of the New York Herald gives a 
graphic account as follows : 

" Last night (10th) at sundown the movement commenced. Bat- 
teries hastened to the front, wagon trains were removed from the 
vicinity of the anticipated battle, the ponderous pontoons hurried 
river-ward, and night closed down upon us bright and beautiful. 
Artillery never seemed to rumble so noisily before, and the sharp 
cluck of the iron axles echoed far and near. Down by the river 
everything was as quiet as peace. The river swept smoothly by, and 
just over there, so close one almost wished to tell them of their error, 
stood the rebel sentries. Silence settled down upon the town, broken 
only by the tones of the clock telling the midnight hours. The moon 
climbed higher up and the falling dew whitened into frost. At two 
o'clock our pickets were withdrawn, and at three the pontoon train 
drove down to the water. Lumber was noiselessly piled upon the 
ground, and the huge boats slid from off the trucks. Then we hear 
a splashing in the river, a dark pathway lengthens out upon the 
silver surface; shadows flit here and there along its track; lusty blows 
of hammers re-echo from side to side. And yet no sound comes from 
the enemy. Have they evacuated the place? Are we not to light 
here after allV Suddenly, Crack! crack! crack! from a hundred 
muskets tells us the ball is opened. A cry of pain conies up the 
bank from the engineers; mules dash off with pontoons thundering 
after. The whiz of bullets becomes more frequent. Suddenly, 
boom! goes a gun; another and another, until thirty pieces are pouring 
shot and shell upon the devoted city. Musketry is lost to the ear in 



102 

the mighty roar that re-echoes again and again from hill to hill. 
Gradually the tire slackens, and the engineers again attempt the 
completion of the bridge, but in vain, and after the third trial they 
fall back, bearing in their arms the wounded, dead and dying. By 
this time it was sunrise, the wounded began to crowd the floors of the 
Lacy House; and the surgeons soon had work enough. 

About eight o'clock the artilleiy fire ceased. The fog was so 
dense that objects were invisible one hundred yards away from the 
guns. Fredericksburg was as silent as before. Again the engineers 
advance, and again the enemy drive them back. Orderlies gallop to 
the different batteries with instructions. A message orders from 
Aquia a spacial train with solid shot, and the thunder breaks out anew. 
For a time the roar is indescribably awful. The city from its walls 
of brick hurls back a thousand echoes which beat up against the 
Falmouth bluff, roll back again beyond the town, and then from 
distant hills once more swell over to us, as though the heavens were 
rent asunder. At General Sumner's head-quarters it becomes diflicult 
to converse in a low tone, while at the batteries, orders must be 
signalled. By-and-by the fire ceases and one is almost awe-struck 
with the profound silence. The mist still clings to the river, the sun 
struggling up red and fiery, and the air is suffocating with the odor of 
gunpowder. Presently the bank of fog begins to lift a little; the 
glistening roofs gleam faintly through the veil; then the sunbeams 
scatter the clouds that intervene, and Fredericksburg, utterly desolate, 
stands out before us. A huge column of dense black smoke towers 
above the livid flames, that leap and hiss and crackle, licking up the 
snow upon the roofs with lambent tongues. The guns renew their 
roar, and we see the solid shot plunge through the masonry as though 
it were past(!board. Other buildings are fired, and before sundown a 
score of houses are in ashes, while not olie seems to have escaped the 
pitiless storm of iron." 

The scenes of that eventful day are also vividly portrayed by 
a correspondent of the New York Times : 

" At ten o'clock General Burnside gives the order, ' Concentrat 
the fire of all your guns on the city and batter it down.' You may 
believe they were not long to obey. The Artillery on the right— eight 
batteries— was commanded by Colonel Hays; Colonel Tompkins, right 
centi-e — seven batteries; Colonel l)e Russy, left — nine batteries. In 
a few moments a total of one hundred and seventy-nine guns on 
Stafford Heights, [other accounts say one hundred and forty-seven 



103 

guns] ranging from ten-pounder Parrotts to four and a half inch siege 
guns, posted along the convex side of the arc of the circle formed by 
the bend of the river and land opposite Fredericksburg, opened on 
the doomed city. The effect was, of course, terrific, and, regarded 
merely as a phenomenon, was among the most awfully grand con- 
ceivable. Perhaps what will give you the liveliest idea of its effect is 
a succession, absolutely without intermission, of the very longest 
peals. It lasted thus for upward of an hour, fifty rounds being fired 
from each gun, and I know not how many tons of iron were thrown 
into the town. 

The congregated generals were transfixed. Mingled satisfaction 
and awe was upon every face. But what was tantalizing was that, 
though a great deal could be heard, nothing could be seen, the city 
being still enveloped in fog and mist. Only a denser pillar of smoke, 
showing itself on the background of the fog, indicating that the town 
had been fired by our shells. Another and another column showed 
itself, and we presently saw that at least a dozen houses must be on 
fire. 

Toward noon the curtain rolled up, and we saw that it was indeed 
so. Fredericksburg was in a conflagration. Tremendous though 
this firing had been, and terrific though its effect was on the town, it 
had not accomplished the object intended. It was found by our 
gunners almost impossible to obtain a suflicient depression of their 
pieces to shell the front part of the city, and the rebel sharp-shooters 
were still comparatively safe behind the thick stone walls of the 
houses. 

During the thick of the bombardment a fresh attempt had been 
made to complete the bridge. It failed, and [as General Hunt 
suggested] nothing could be done till a party could be thrown over, 
to clean out the rebels and cover the bridge-head. For this mission 
General Burnside called for volunteers, and Colonel Hall of Fort 
Sumter fame, immediately responded that he had a Brigade (PA 
Brigade, 2d Div., 2d Army Corps) that would do the business. 
[Colonel Korman J. Hall was a graduate of West Point, and entered 
the service as Second Lieutenant of Artillery. After the capture of 
Fort Sumter he was assigned to the conmiand of the 7th Michigan 
infantry. He died in 1866, and is buried at West Point. During the 
battle of Fredericsburg, the other regiments of his Brigade were the 
19th and 20th Mass., 42d and 59th N. Y.] Accordingly the 7th Mich- 
igan and 19th Massachusetts, two small Regiments numbering in all 
about four hundred men, were selected for the purpose. The plan 



104 

was that they should take the pontoon boats of the first bridge, of 
which there were ten lying on the bank of the river, waiting to be 
added to the half-finished bridge, cross over in them, and landing, 
drive out the rebels. Nothing could be more admirable or more 
gallant than the execution of this daring feat. Rushing down the 
steep bank of the river, the party found temporarj' shelter behind the 
pontoon boats lying scattered on the bank, and behind the piles of 
planking destined for the covering of the bridge, behind rocks, SiC. 
In this situation they acted some fifteen or twenty minutes as sharp- 
shooters, they and the rebels observing each other. In the meantime 
new and vigorous artillery firing was commenced on our part, and 
just as soon as this was fairly developed, our sharp-shooters rose from 
their crouching places, rushed for the pontoon boats and, pushing 
them into the water, rapidly filled them with twenty-five or thirty 
each. 

The first boat pushes off. Xow, if ever, is the rebels' opportunity. 
Crack! crack! crack! from fifty lurking places go rebel shots at the 
brave fellows, who, stooping low in the boat, seek to avoid the fire. 
The murderous work was well done. Lustily, however, pull the 
oarsmen; and presently, having passed the middle of the stream, the 
boat and its gallant freight come under cover of the opposite bluffs. 

Another boat follows. Nothing could be more amusing in its way 
than the result. Instantly we see a new turn of affairs. The rebels 
pop up by the hundred, like so many rats, from every cellar, rifle-pit 
and stone wall, and scamper off up the streets of the town. With all 
their fieetness, however, many of them were much too slow. With 
incredible rapidity the Michigan and Massachusetts boys sweep up 
the hill, making a rush for the lurking places occupied by the rebels, 
and, gaining them, each man capturing his two or three prisoners. 
The pontoon boats on their return took over more than one hundred 
of these fellows. 

You can imagine with what intense interest the crossing of the 
first boat-load of our men was watched by the numerous spectators 
on 'the shore, and with what enthusiastic shouts their landing on the 
opposite side was greeted. It was an authentic piece of human 
heroism, which moves men as nothing else can. The problem was 
solved. This flash of bravery had done what scores of batteries 
and tons of metal had failed to accomplish. The country will not 
forget that little band." 

By the kindness of Harper & Brothers, of New York, a view 
of the forlorn hope crossing the river is taken from Harper's 



106 

Weekly. The Confederate foi-ce wliicli so long prevented the 
advance consisted chiefly of l>arksdale's Mississippi troops, who 
first met the 19th Mass. at Balls Bluff and Edward's Ferry. 

We have already seen that Edgar, previous to the battle and 
when no immediate conflict was anticipated, had sent for his 
brother. Charles left home at the appointed time, and arrived at 
Aquia Creek at dusk on Dec. 11. Hearing the heavy bombard- 
ment he hastened forward as rapidly as possible, and reached 
Falmouth about 6 P. M. The city of Fredericksburg was then 
afire in three jilaces, and men were transporting the wounded 
across the river to the Lacy house and other hospitals. At this 
time a surgeon was probing the wound of a member of the Mass. 
19th. Seven men were wounded in one of the boats while 
crossing, and many others fell during the sharp fight in the streets 
of Fredericksburg. Fearing that his brother might be wounded, 
Charlie (though only seventeen years of age) commenced a tour 
of inspection among the hospitals on the Falmouth side. When 
weary, he lay down beside the bivouac fire and slept till Friday 
morning. At an early hour of that beautiful December day, he 
crossed the pontoon bridge and soon found the 19th Mass. The 
affectionate greetings of the brothers may be left to imagination. 
Edgar said that his line had occupied a street, but after dark fell 
back near the river. Throughout the day on Friday the troops 
were drawn up in line of battle. There were three lines in the 
city. Edgar's company was in one of the houses, a portion of the 
time. A platoon would load in the back parlor, and then enter 
the front parlor to shoot at Confederates across the street. 
Occasionally a few shells were thrown into the city. By and by 
the soldiers were ordered to stack arms, and they amused them- 
selves in searching the old houses in an orderly manner, but 
pillaging was strictly forbidden. Toward evening Charlie re- 
ceived permission to forage in the pantry of one of the houses. 
The flour which he delivered to the cook contained plaster of 
Paris, and the griddle cakes were consequently dangerous diet. 
On Friday night the brothers slept in the parlor of a liouse on 
Caroline street, sharing the same blanket on the floor. Edgar 
talked of home, and became very sad. Finally he remarked. 



106 

"After all, Charlie, you may have come to take care of me and 
take me home." Soon after this, at a late hour they fell asleep. 
During the long conversation that evening, no light was allowed5 
lest it should draw the rebel fire. 

Early on the morning of Saturday, Dec. 13, Charlie Was 
aroused by the order, " Fall in, Co. C." He called Edgar, who 
took command, and the company fell in along the sidewalk in 
front of the house. The men remained in line two or three hours 
after sunrise, when they were dismissed for breakfast. Edgar 
then requested his brother to go after the Christmas box whicli 
was at Potomac Creek. The patriotic young civilian, with true 
soldiei'ly spirit, desired to take a musket and fall into the ranks 
of the color company, for he was well drilled. Edgar, anxious 
to kee)> the zealous youth out of danger, ])ersuaded him to go 
after the box ; saying, " Chai'lie, you will see fighting enough 
before you go away." Without further oj)position the latter 
proceeded on his journey to Potomac Creek. Lieut. Newcomb 
was now at leisure for a short time, before his regiment was 
ordered into line of battle. A part of this precious interval was 
occupied in writing the following beautiful letter, [the best that 
he ever wrote] which was found in his pocket after he was 
wounded : 

Fredericksburg, 

Dec. 13, 1862. 
Dear Sister: 

We occupied tlie city about 4 P. M. of the 11th, after bombarding 
it for almost twelve hours. The 7th Michigan of our Brigade crossed 
lirst, followed by the 19th [Mass.] Co. C first. We occupied the 
houses and fired from windows, from behintl barns, &c., driving the 
enemy almost out of the city. Yesterday Charlie came over and met 
me, just as we had returned from picket. Our meeting was exceed- 
ingly happy. The rebels are now shelling us about half a mile below, 
and expecting the mail to start, and our marching orders to be given 
every monii'nt, I have first written what you would be most anxious 
to hear. I shall now continue my story from 4 A. M. of the 11th, 
as well as possible. 

At that time we awoke and struck our tents, just logged and 
furnished with fireplaces to render winter tolerable. At 0)^ we 
marched three or four miles to the ferry, a point opposite Fredericks- 



107 

burg where the river is narrowest. Though we were the last reg't 
of the Brigade and Division on the march, the latter had no sooner 
halted than we passed them, all except the 7th Mich., and formed in 
line on the bluff overlooking the river. Col. D. remained in camp, 
his boils not permitting him to walk or ride; otherwise we flatter 
ourselves we would have been the first. Didn't we feel proud as we 
moved along past the regiments who looked on us with a kind of awe, 
and whispered " the 19th Mass." The 7th deployed as skirmishers 
on our left, and then the I9th deploying we moved forward over the 
prostrate forms of another regiment, the previous advance guard, and 
lay down on the river's brink to punish the sharp-shooter?, who, 
posted iu the houses opposite, had prevented the finishing of a pon- 
toon a few hours before. Meanwhile, the batteries above us kept up 
a vigorous fire on the buildings, but neither by shot or shell did 
Johnny reply. At noon the pontoon corps endeavored to finish the 
bridge, but the sharp-shooters proved too many for them, and again 
they retired. Soon after we were called up the bank though the 
shelling continued. The city was now afire in half a dozen places. 
Rarely was a sign of life visible, though we knew that among the 
buildings were hid perhaps thousands. Amid the clouds of smoke 
rose the church spires, and the only clock still counted the fleeting 
hours, 12, 1, 2, and then was silent. We began to fear we should not 
cross that day, though the order of the march (the ISJth was second) 
and all necessary directions had been issued for several hours. At 3 
P. M. we were ordered again to the bank, and lay down in the cold 
mud. Being still fastidious where I lay, I did not at once lie down, 
but a shot from across the river whizzing by considerably accelerated 
my descent. Bye and bye the pontooniers came down in fear and 
trembling and began to work. During all of our terrific shelling, and 
even when we fired at every head, the Rebels had kept almost 
unbroken silence, but no sooner did the engineers again tackle the 
boats than scores of balls warned them to desist. Our firing could 
not silence them. The most violent shelling, tearing their shelters 
and crashing over, beneath, and all around could not move them. 
Pontooniers halted, desisted, and finally ran. Then the 7th took the 
boats and piled into them, twenty in a boat, and without a moment's 
delay poled over the river, amid a hail of bullets and the cheers of 
thousands of soldiers who crowded the bluff. Never in my life did I 
feel as I did when the first boat grounded on the opposite shore, and 
its noble crew leaped out and climbed the bank, while Johnny 
skedaddled down town. Alas, the first man who landed fell in the 



108 

street, mortally wounded. Now came our turn, and Co. C rushed 
down antl crossed. Only one of our company was wounded, and he 
slightly in the foot. The Michiganders had captured a score of 
Johnnies and were marching them down as we landed. Immediately 
we deployed as skirmishers, and climbing the fences and tiling 
through back gardens entered the houses on Caroline street. Every- 
thing lay in confusion, but we must skirmish, not pillage. The large 
white house which we occupied till tifteen minutes ago fell to my lot, 
and with a dozen men, entered. Up went the windows. The blinds 
were thrown open, the first door smashed into fragments and men 
posted up stairs and down. Kight opposite us behind a fence lay the 
sharp-shooters, and soon our shots found their hiding place. We 
fought till dark and picketed during the night hours, and the gray- 
backs not so far from us as 5G from Shawmut Av. This morning the 
Captain counted the holes in one of the roomsof our house. Through 
a space 4 ft. by 4 we had sent five shot or shell, and the rebels seventy- 
two bullets. The pontoon was soon finished, but the Gen. probably 
fearing a repulse sent over only a few regiments after us, and we lay 
all night long at the mercy of the Rebels, had they known our 
weakness, but morning came and they had not troubled us. We 
were relieved and the picket advanced so that now, as a second or 
third line, we hold the houses we first held as skirmishers. All day 
yesterday we rested in the ruined houses, or along the desolate but 
crowded street. Thursday evening after Fredericksburg was taken, 
they shelled us, and occasionally yesterday, in which case we retired 
behind the buildings. 

We had just been njlieved from picket when Charlie came up and 
was introduced by Capt. Chadwick. He had been detained in Washing- 
ton longer than he expected, only getting away as Surgeon's boy. 
He arrived opposite Fredericksburg Thursday evening after the fight, 
heard T was wounded and spent many hours in search of me in the 
hospitals; tlumgh the cases he saw were slight and few, yet his 
initiation to a soldier's life and a soldier's chances shocked him not 
a little. He spent the (hiy with me, and after a little instruction in the 
customs of camp, proved himself abundantly able to provide for 
himself and me too. He ate little yesterday; even beef's heart, which 
I consider a luxury, he put in his haversack " to eat by and by." He 
spent half the night at a fire trying to warm hinisclf, and this though 
we were in a house, and lay on a bed, and the weather was quite mild. 
But we laugh good-naturedly, and wait till hunger and want of sleep 
break him in to a soldier's life. 



105^ 

To-day he has gone over the river to the next station where he 
left my box and his valise, and if he gets back in time will tell you 
his experiences and give the details more fully than I. 

I cannot be too grateful for the loan of Bro. Charlie, and though 
he came out most anxious to see a fight, my advice and orders which 
have been most materially strengthened by a few shells which the 
Rebs fired at us yesterday, will keep him out of harm's way. I am 
glad too that you do not limit his stay. We are on the eve of 
important movements, and he will have advantages which he will 
never regret, and can never again have, of seeing all sides of our rough 
life except, I hope, defeat. Then the i)leasure of his society and the 
assurances of his care in case of an accident are invaluable. 

This morning I received yours and mother's of the 7th and a 
paper. The shells aie flying thicker and the musketry growing 
momentarily sharper and more continued. I hope not to be called out 
again, but God disposes, and we know not what an hour may bring 
forth. Charlie says he thinks I owe my past safety to the prayers of 
my friends. I have often thought the same, and when I consider the 
temptations of of this most trying life, my protection from sin is more 
marvelous than from wounds or death. 

Good bye, Edgar. 

At this time the Union lines were divided into three Grand 
Divisions. On Friday, Dec. 12, the larger part of the Army of 
the Potomac crossed the pontoon bridges, and Hall's Brigade (in 
the Right Grand Division) was posted in the city of Fredericks- 
burg. The left Grand Division was stationed below the town, 
and the Centre was to be left in reserve during the first attack. 
Meanwhile, the Confederate troops pre]»ared for resistance to the 
last. Their position was naturally a strong one, and the heights 
south of Fredericksburg had been fortified with consummate skill. 
In the open field the two armies were about equally matched. 
Behind works of immense strengtii General Lee had good reason 
to expect an easy victory. The night of the 12th was intensely 
cold, and the pickets on both sides suffered greatly. On Saturday 
morning the sun rose clear, but a dense fog enveloped the town. 
Opposite this point, on the Confederate left, General Longstreet 
was in command. On his right were the Divisions of Jackson 
and A. P. Hill, the entire length of the Confederate lines being 
nearly six miles. Historians on both sides agree as to the general 



Ho 

features of the battle, and no extended account can be given in 
this brief sketcli. There has been considerable discussion as to 
the true meaning of an order sent by General Burnside to General 
Franklin, who coninianded the Left Grand Division of the Union 
army. This ambiguity was unfortunate at the outset. In accord 
ance with the supposed intent of the Commander-in-Chief, an 
attack was made by General Meade (afterwards the hero of 
Gettysburg) about 10 A. M. So impetuous was the assault that 
Meade succeeded in driving a thin wedge between two of Hill's 
Brigades, and had he been properly supported there is a possi- 
bility that the Federal troops might have won a victory. But the 
force at hand was too weak, and Meade's column retired in dis- 
order with a loss of forty per cent. Rejieated charges during the 
day were likewise unsuccessful. A part of the Right Grand 
Division, under General Sumner, was ordered into action. In his 
, front the plain was narrow, and obstructed by a canal and fences. 
Only a portion of his force could be employed at once. General 
Howard's Division (to which was attached Hall's Brigade, in- 
cluding the Mass. 19th) at first received instructions to make a 
demonstration on the Confederate left flank; but before this 
movement could be carried into execution, Howard was ordered 
to su])port Hancock in a despei-ate attempt " to carry by storm 
the enemy's works." Eye witnesses mention the " great gaps " 
]»loughed through the ranks by artillery fire. They tell us how 
the " heads of columns in front of Marye's Heights melted aAvay 
befoi-e a solid wall of tire, delivered from ranks four deep, like a 
snow-bank before a jet of steam." The slaughter in front of the 
stone wall and road cut out of the hill-side was too dreadful for 
description, and words are unequal to the task. 

Siuldenly Haslicd a sheet of flame 

From hidden wall and from amhuseade ; 
A moment more — tliej' saj- this is fame — 

A thousand dead men on the <i;rass were laid. 

Our soldiers who took part in the ho])eless charges "met a 
solid sheet of lead winged with flame, poured in their faces from 
the sunken road." In front of the Heights our men were over- 
powered by " a torrent of shot and shell, grape and canister, with 



Ill 

whistling bullets thick as hailstones." Pollard, one of the best 
Southern military Avriters, remarks that " in this part of the field 
the enemy displayed a devotion that is remarkable in history." 
Colonel Walter H. Taylor, of General Lee's staff, referring to the 
repulse of the Federal lines, generously observed that " their 
allotted task exceeded human endeavor ; no shame to them that, 
after such courageous and brilliant conduct, their efforts lacked 
success." 

General Burnside's official report of his losses may assist the 
reader to form some conception of the wholesale slaughter : 
"Killed, 1180; wounded, 9028; missing, 2145." The Right 
Grand Division suffered much more than either of the others. 

EijilUecn hundred and sixty-two, — 

Tliat is the number of wounded men 
Who, if the telegrapli's tale be true, 

Reached Washington Cit^- but yester e'en. 
And it's but a handful, telegrams add, 

To those that are coming by boats and cars ; 
Weary and wounded, dying and sad, 

Cove'red, but only in front, with scars. 
Orders arrived, and the river they crossed ; 

Built the bridge in the enemy's face ; 
No matter how many were shot and lost, 

And floated, sad corpses, away from the place. 
Orders they heard, and they scaled the height, 

Climbing right into the jaws of death; 
Each man grasping his rifle-piece tight. 

Scarcely pausing to draw his breath. 

w. F. w. 

Lieut. Newcomb's heroism in this fearfully-fatal struggle is 
still fresh in the memory of his comrades, who have kindly 
contributed numerous written statements from which the following 
extracts are taken. Col. John C. Chadwick, now military in- 
structor at the Mass. Institute of Technology, thus tells the story: 
"I went out as Adjutant of the 19th Reg't, Mass. Vols., and was 
then made Captain, and assigned to the command of ' C Co.,' 
which was the Color company. Edgar M. Xewcomb was my 
First Lieutenant, and was serving in that capacity under my 
command, when he was wounded at Fredericksburg; and Sergeant 
Wallace T. George, of Haverhill (my First Sergeant), aided me in 



112 

bringing him off the field, after I had got my company in a place 
of comparative safety. He was sent on a stretcher to the Lacy 
House Hos])ital, where he died. 

Major II. G. O. Weymouth [who for many years has held a 
responsible position at the Boston Custom House] led the regi- 
ment at the battle of Fredericksburg. Col. E. W. Hinks was a,t 
home wounded. Lieut. Col. Devereux was incapacitated for duty, 
by a very large and angry abscess on the inside of the calf of the 
leg, which prevented his riding, and also walking. Major Howe 
was dead. Capt. Wass was at home wounded in the foot, and I 
think Capt. Rioe was also wounded ; which caused the command 
to devolve on Capt. Weymouth. 

Tlie regiment made three charges at Fredericksburg, and 
Lieut. Newcomb fell on the third charge, while advancing with 
the National flag in his hands. The Color Sergeants had both 
been shot down, and as soon as they fell, the Colors were caught 
up by others, who in turn were shot; and so on, until we had 
eleven men shot (killed or wounded) under our Regimental 
Colors — the National an<l State flags. 

At last the two men holding those flags dropped, and Edgar 
])icked them both up, and advanced, calling upon the men to 
follow him ; when some one said, ' Newcomb, give me one of 
those flags ;' when he handed him the State flag, retaining the 
National flag, under which he soon dropped. 

He was struck by a Minnie bullet (I think) below the knees, 
shattering the bones of botli legs, at about 3 or 4 o'clock, as near 
as I can tell now, without consulting records. We had passed 
down the ]»rincipal street of the town, and after jjassing beyond 
its limits we filed to the right of the Pike, and then formed line 
to ihe left, under the edge of the Plateau, over which we 
advanced to the first, second and third charges. The 20th Mass. 
and 7th Michigan liegt's were with us. When we found we 
could not carry the woiks by assault, after the third charge, those 
two regiments fell back below the Plateau ; but we, being nearer 
the Pike, obliqued to the left and got behind fences of yards in 
the rear of some houses fronting on the Pike. 

After Xewcomb dropped, and while getting my company in 



113 

a place of safety, as I was passing him lie said, ' Captain, don't 
leave me here.' I said I would not. After getting my company 
secure, I called for some one to help me bring Lieut. Newcomb 
off the field ; but knowing how warm a place we had been in, no 
one except Plrst Sergeant Wallace T. George dared to risk liis 
safety. We went to him amid a shower of bullets, and he said, 
when we undertook to lift him, ' Don't touch my legs.' So we 
took him by the arms, dragging his legs the while, got liim 
through the fence, laid him on the ground, then put him on a 
stretcher, and sent him to the Lacy House Hospital, across the 
river, where he died. He said toward the last, ' It's all light 
ahead!'" 

General Luther Stephenson, Jr., has kindly allowed the use 
of one of his photographs in i^reparing the cut of the Lacy House 
here presented. 




Col. Chadwick and others recall the seemingly prophetic 
remark of Newcomb, previoiis to the battle of Fredericksburg, 
that " he did not expect to come out of another battle safely." 

Colonel Devereux also bears testimony to Newcomb's self- 
sacrificing spirit : " His regiment being ordered to charge the 
batteries directly in front, there were shot down in the storm of 
bullets that met them no less than eight color-bearers in suc- 
cession. At one time both were killed at once, and both colors 
lay on the ground. Here was an opportunity for a self-sacrificing 
manhood that young Newcomb was eminently fitted to put forth. 
Rushing to the front he seized botli colors and waved his 
regiment on. But the inevitable conse(piences followed. Like 
all who had preceded him, and those that followed, every man 



114 

that bore tlie colors was the fated object of the unerring bullets 
of the enemy's sliar2)sliooters Avhilst the regiment remained in the 
open field. Ncwcomb was wounded in both legs, which were 
very much shattered." 

" We were at the front," wiites Captain J. G. B. Adams, 
Postmaster of Lynn, Mass., " when our regiment and the 7th 
Michigan led the ' Forlorn Hope ' and crossed the river in boats 
under a terrible fire from the Rebels on the other shore. We 
fought together in the streets of Fredericksburg, and on the 13th 
of December charged Marye's Heights with the regiment. We 
must force our regiment over the Heights. Never was such a 
terrific fire concentrated upon any body of men as was on us that 
day. We advanced with the Colors, and the Sergeants fell dead 
at our feet. A Corporal grasps the flag before it strikes the 
ground, and he in turn goes down. Newcomb catches the flag as 
he falls ; the Sergeant with the State flag is killed ; Newcomb 
gi-asps that also, and is shot through both legs. Handing the 
flags to me he said, ' John, don't let them go down.' And with 
the flags in my hands, we charged across the field and secured the 
advance of the regiment. I was promoted for it, but poor 
Newcomb gave his life to save the flag. I saw him for a moment 
that night, only to tell him that the boys did not fail us, and that 
the flag was safe. You may think that 1 mention myself \\\ this 
more than is jn-oper; but I cannot tell the story of Lieut. 
Newcomb Avithout telling my own, as our war record was the 
same while he lived. I could tell this story much better than I 
can write it. My eyes fill with tears and my hand trembles, as I 
recall those days and think of the nol^le fellows who went down 
in the fight. Braver men never followed tlie flag than were 
found in the ranks of the 19th Reg't. We left nearly half of the 
men engaged tliat day. AYe could not have carried Marye's 
Heights if we had fought until this time, but good soldiers do 
not question orders. 

, * Theirs not to make repl}', 

Theirs but to do aud die.' 

So we did our best. I was in command of Co. I that day." 
P'irst Sergeant Wallace T. George, (afterward First Lieut. 



115 

in the 37th U. S. C. Infantry) and now Street Commissioner of 
Haverhill, Mass., writes as follows : " Upon the battle field at 
Fredericksburg, at Capt. J. C. ChadAvick's request, I went to the 
assistance of Lieut. Newcomb, and asked him if both of his legs 
were broken. He answered, 'Only one.' Then I asked, 'Can 
you endure it to be taken by the arms ? ' He replied, ' I can bear 
anything ; only get me off this field.' " 

Captain W. E. Barrows, now President of the Williamantic 
Linen Co., Conn., furnishes further information of great value. 
He went out with the 19th as Hospital Steward, and served in 
that capacity at the battle of Fredericksburg. " It was my good 
fortune," he writes, " to hear soon after his (Newcomb's) wound 
of his condition, and I visited him in the Lacy House. Mortally 
wounded as he was, he found strength to speak to me of a better 
world, and a glorious future for those that stand fast to the end* 
My duties at that terrible time did not allow me to stay with him 
as long as I wished ; but his conduct and admonition to me made 
an impression never to be forgotten, and it must have made me a 
better man." 

The Surgeon and Assistant Surgeon of the regiment died a 
few years ago, and we lose the testimony which they doubtless 
woidd have been glad to furnish. In fourteen battles and 
skirmishes previous to the action at Fredericksburg, Lieut. New- 
comb was providentially preserved, and his first wounds were 
those received on Dec. 13, 1862. Colonfel John C. Chadwick 
writes : " I don't know as I can give you the names of all the 
battles, but I will try. First there was Ball's Bluff (Edward's 
Ferry) ; then Lee's Mills, Yorktown, West Point, Fair Oaks, Fair 
Oaks (June 25th), Peach Orchard, Savage Station, White Oak 
Swamp, Glendale, Malvern Hill, Malvern Hill (2d time), Antietam, 
and Fredericksburg. By referring to a memorandum which I 
had saved, I am able to give them to you in the order in which 
they came." 

Captain Stephen J. Newman writes: "Durmg the battle 
called 'Ball's Bluff,' two companies of the 19th (H and K) under 
Major H. J. How crossed at Edward's Ferry to Virginia, and 
skirmished all day with the enemy. It is there that Corporals 



116 

Newcomb and Manning were with Brig. Gen. Fred. Lander when 
Lander received his death wound. The Regimental Color has on 
it 'Edward's Ferry.' 

You ask for otlier places that the regiment was engaged in, 
to the time of my discharge, viz: 

April 8, '62. Yorktown, reconnoissance and skirmish, — and under 

a siege fire till the evacuation of the same, May 2d, '62. 
May 7, '62. Battle of West Point, Va., not much. 
May 31, June 1, '62. Battle of Fair Oaks, — only as re-enforce- 
ments, not in the action. 
June 26, '62. Fair Oak Swamp. This was the first tough fight 

of the regiment. 
June 29, '62. Battles of Peach Orchard and Savage Station, all 

day. I was left at Peach Orchard. 
June 30, '62. Battle of AVhite Oak Swamp. Battle of Nelson's 

Farm. This was a very hard fight. 
July 17, '62. Second Malvern Hill, reconnoissance two days. 
Sept. 6, '62. Battle or skirmish of Fairfax Court House. We 

were the rear-guard of that portion of the army. 
Sept. 14, '62. South Mountain, Md. Arrived during the night 

to commence on the 15th, but did not participate. Rebs 

evacuated during the night. 
Sept. 16, '62. Boonesboro', Md. He-enforced the skirmishers — 

no fight. 
Sept. 17, '62. Battle of Antietam, Md. This was a hot one. 
Oct. 2, '62. Halltown, Va. Skirmish." 

A few additional particulars concerning the battle of Fred- 
ericksburg must suffice. " Officers of the 19th Eegiment relate 
that they saw an officer on horseback, waving his sword. A shell 
came and took his head off smooth, but the headless officer still 
rode along for some distance, the hand waving his sword, proving 
the strength of tlie ruling passion in death." The Regimental 
report after the battle was as follows : "Officers killed, 1 ; officers 
wounded, 8 ; enlisted men killed, 13 ; enlisted men wounded, 75 ; 
enlisted men missing, 7." JNlajor (then Captain) H. G. O. 
Weymouth was very seriously wounded while gallantly leading 
the regiment. Telegrams to Boston papers contained the follow- 
ing: Lieut. E. M. Newcomb of Co. C, wounded in both legs, 
mortally." "Lieut. Newcomb who had both legs shot, cannot 



117 

recover, and will not probably be living when this reaches the 
HeraUr 

It will be remembered that on the morning of Dec. 13 Licnt. 
Newconib, knowing that a fearful battle was impending, en- 
deavored to insure the safety of his younger brother by sending 
him after a box which had been left at Potomac Creek, a few 
miles from the front. Soon after Charlie's departure the battle 
commenced. Hearing the heavy firing he hastened to the tele- 
graph station at Potomac Creek, and learned that the 19th Mass. 
was engaged. With great anxiety he awaited the departure of 
of the next train at 2 P. M. After a short passage he arrived at 
Falmouth, deposited the box in a place of safety, and started for 
the battle field. Wearing a soldier's overcoat he was not chal- 
lenged at the pontoon bridge. Crossing the Rappahannock he 
spent the afternoon just in the rear of the line of battle. He 
retains a vivid recollection of the scene, and thus describes it. 
"Regiment after regiment of the reserves was ordered to the 
front, and marched forward with cheers, I saw the 22d Mass. — 
fragments of it — return. Shot and shell fell into the churches we 
used as hospitals. In charging the rifle-pits near the stone wall, 
Edgar fell. I passed through the entire length of the city, 
re-crossed the river on the lower pontoon about sunset, and made 
my way to the Lacy House. As I was passing m, I met some 
one who said my brother was woimded, I found him lying on 
the floor, and conscious. On recovering from shock the next 
morning, his first thought was in regard to his sword, which had 
been left behind. On Sunday afternoon, Dec. 14, at Edgar's 
urgent request I went across the river to find the sword. It had 
been unbuckled when he was placed on the stretcher, I found 
bis regiment in the city, and came up with them as they were 
mustered for roll call. You can perhaps imagine something of 
that roll call after the battle. More than half their brave fellows 
had been left upon the field. 

I recovered the sword which his men had guarded jealously, 
and which they said they would have brought away at any cost. 
It was ray brother's legacy to me, and I value it above all other 
possessions." 



118 

It would be painful to surviving friends to dwell at length 
upon the week of torture in the hospital. A few words will 
suffice. After examining the wounds the surgeons very properly- 
declined to operate. They were uncertain whether the injuries 
were caused by a bullet or a fragment of shell. During those 
long days of agony, Charlie was a faithful nurse in constant 
attendance. Colonel Chadwick and others assisted as far as they 
were able. Several army-friends visited Edgar, and he conversed 
calmly and cheerfully of the future, while not an eye was dry but 
his. Kind messages were sent to friends at home. The Bible 
which had been so often read in camp was bequeathed to his only 
sister. " Tell mother," he said, " that I shall be near her ; perhaps 
nearer than ever before. Perhaps I can help her more. Precious 
little mother." 

"His brother," writes the Rev. J. C. Fernald, " could hear him 
softly repeating, 'Perfect through suffering — perfect through 
suffering.' He held and watched wistfully the pictured faces of 
those dear ones he was to see no more on earth; and in an 
interval of comparative freedom from pain he sent to each a 
special message. He gave directions that no words of praise be 
placed upon his tombstone." 

When Charlie shed tears at the approaching separation, 
Edgar said, " Your orders are not yet come. Wlien they come, 
you will join me if you live well." With pei-fecl coolness he 
made preparations for death, selecting a most appropriate text 
for his funeral sermon. The welcome release from suffering 
came on the morning of Saturday, December 20, before dawn. 
At the closing scene in that little room, Charlie, a soldier, and 
Miss Clara Barton [now President of the American Red Cross 
Association] were present. Cliarlie read the seventeenth chapter 
of St. John's Gospel, and Edgar repeated it. Toward the last his 
mind was wandering, and he imagined that the nurse. Miss 
Bartpn, was his mother. She kindly favored the illusion by 
shading the light. Charlie and Miss Barton, at Edgar's request, 
made an effort to sing a hymn or two — " The Shiniag Shore," 
" For O we stand, on Jordan's strand," &c. His father, Mr. John 
J. Newcomb, arrived on the following morning, Sunday, Dec. 21. 



119 

Edgar's body was then in the embalmer's tent. The remains 
arrived at Mr. Newcomb's residence in Boston on Christmas 
evening. 

The Boston Journal published an obituary as follows : 
" We are pained to announce the decease of Lieut. Edgar M. 
Newcomb of the 19th Mass. Regiment. He died at Falmouth, Va., 
from the effects of the wounds he received during the battle of 
Fredericksburg. He was in full possession of all his faculties, and 
peacefully fell asleep, in the full faith of Christian hope, to wake no 
more in this life. A younger brother was with him to soothe his 
dying hours by the kind offices of affection. His father had started 
for Falmouth, but did not arrive in season to see him before he died. 
Thus another brave and cherished son of Massachusetts has laid 
his life a noble sacrifice upon his country's altar. Lieut. Newcomb 
was a young man of fine character and education, a true Christian, 
and controlled by the most patriotic impulses. He graduated from 
Harvard College in the Class of 18G0, and had entered upon the active 
pursuits of life when the war broke out. With a generous disregard 
of his pecuniary interests, and the attractions of a home surrounded 
by all that makes life pleasing, he volunteered as a soldier in the 
ranks, to defend the government of his fathers, and assert its rightful 
supremacy. By his capacity, bravery and firmness, he won the 
respect and confidence of his superiors, and was advanced to the post 
of Lieutenant. He was a true man, an unselfish patriot, and a brave 
soldier. A numerous circle of relatives and friends will lament his 
untimely decease. He was about twenty-two years of age, just in the 
flower of youth." 

Other extracts are taken from the same paper : 
" The members of the Harvard Class of 1860, now in this city, 
met yesterday to take appropriate notice of the death of Lieut. E. 
M. Newcomb, who fell at Fredericksburg in the recent battle. 
Resolutions were passed testifying their respect for his character, his 
Christian humility and faithfulness to duty, his courage and death 
from honorable wounds on the field of battle, and expressive of 
sympathy with his family." 

" At a meeting of the Boston Corn Exchange this morning, of 
which the father of Lieut. Newcomb is a member, appropriate notice 
was taken of the death of Lieut. Newcomb, and it was voted to 
adjourn for the purpose of attending the funeral." 

At noon on Saturday, Dec. 27, 1862, the public obsequies 



120 

took place, as will be seen from the following account taken from 
the Boston Journal : 

FUNERAL OF LIEUT. NEWCOMB. 

" Man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets." 
Ecclesiastes XII. 5. 

" The last sad offices which the living can perform for the dead 
were to-day rendered to the remains of Lieut. Edgar M. Newcomb of 
the Massachusetts 19th Regiment, who received mortal wounds at 
the battle of Fredericksburg, and died on the 20th instant at 
Falmouth, Va. The funeral services took place at 12 o'clock, in 
Park-street church, of which religious society the deceased was a 
member. The sanctuary where he had been accustomed to join in 
the worship of God was filled with his numerous friends and the 
general public, come to pay their sad tribute of respect to one who 
had lived and died like a Christian — who amid the license of camp 
life had exhibited the noblest traits of genuine piety — who had 
bravely stood ' in the fore front of battle ' on many a hard fought field 
— and who, when confronted by the King of Terrors, calmly, peace- 
fully, gladly welcomed the hour when the mortal should put on 
immortality, and death be swallowed up in victory. 

Among the prominent individuals present were Governor Andrew, 
Senator Wilson, Colonel Hinks, Major Rice and Captain Rice of the 
19th Regiment, together with a large body of military men and 
college classmates. The casket was deposited in front of the altar, 
wrapped in the folds of the American flag, and covered with wreaths 
of immortelles and fragrant flowers. The military cap, pierced with 
bullets, and sword of the gallant soldier, bearing similiar marks, were 
also placed upon the casket, which bore the inscription : 

Edgar M. Newoomb, 

LiEOT. 19th Regiment, Mass. Vols., 

Died Dec. 20th, 1862, 

AT Falmouth, Va., 

of wounds received at the battle of fredericksburg. 

Aged 22 years, 2 months, 18 days. 

In front of the altar were arranged the tattered ensigns of the 
19th Regiment, which were at the battle of Antietam, and which 
spoke volumes of the heroic deeds and unflinching courage of the 
glorious 19th, of Avhich the deceased was no small jiart. 

The services opened with singing, [by a quartette] followed by 
prayer and the reading of select passages of Scripture by Rev. Mr. 
Todd. The choir then sang the beautiful hymn commencing, ' I 



121 

would not live alway.' Rev. J. O. Means, D. D., of Roxbury, then 
delivered a beautiful and affectionate tribute to the memory of the 
deceased. 

The sermon is given below : — 

Our young friend, as he was falling asleep, expressed the wish 
that one who loved him well, would preach a sermon over his remains, 
from the text: " Until the day break, and the shadows tiee away." 
The words are in the 2nd Chapter of Solomon's Song, and 17th verse. 
"Until the day break, and the shadows flee away." Precious, 
pregnant sentence; telling whither his loUging eyes were gazing, 
telling where our strength and consolation may be found. 

Until the day break, we cannot comprehend the strange events 
which are now transpiring. It is too dark yet; our eyes are filled 
with tears; we cannot compose our thoughts to judge the mysterious 
tribulations of our country, and the deep anguish of sorrowing hearts, 
as we shall judge them when all the shadows shall flee away, and the 
fulness of the coming day break forth. 

If we go into one of our workshops, we see the forge glowing 
and flashing, as the bars of iron are thrust in among the coals ; we 
hear the ringing strokSs by which the tough metal is beaten into 
shape. Flanges of enormous screws and ribs not set up, are lying 
around, and sections of keel, and segments of boilers; huge beams 
are slowly sliding under the hammers, and armor plates curved by 
the maul under heat and pressure are bolted together; there is no 
symmetry apparent, but utter confusion and disorder, and the noises 
do not resemble the music of the spheres. Until the work is com- 
pleted, and the iron ship is launched, the monster guns are mounted 
in the turret, and the grim monitor is ready for service, we cannot 
understand the movements of the workshop. 

And when men's lives fall upon the period when God is giving 
new shape to the institutions of society, building a monitor impreg- 
nable to the bolts of wrong, while the changes are in progress, the 
dust and heat and turmoil which accompany the process, occupy our 
thoughts. It is what we are suffering, it is the pressure that is upon 
us, the terrible sacrifices, the heavy blows that fall in quick succession; 
it is the anxiety that clouds the future, which we dwell upon. And 
what it all means, and how to look upon these scenes, we shall not 
understand, until the day breaks. When this sublime work is com- 
pleted, when the wise Providence of God has brought about the 
changes which He is working, as the glory of the new day shines 
across the continent, it will illuminate these gloomy battle-fields; and 



122 

oh! it will fall upon the faces of our martyred dead, so that when we 
,look upon them, it will seem as if we " saw the face of an angel." 

The clear, spiritual discernment of this young soldier, recognized 
the danger that we should sit down in the gloom and sorrow of this 
hour, and while the sackcloth is upon us, and ashes cover our heads, 
should mourn and lament, and say, Alas, all this sacrifice, this pro- 
fusion of treasure spent, and of blood; to what purpose is this waste? 
How much might our noble boys have done for their country and for 
God? How much might their lives have contributed towards the 
happiness of loving hearts; towards elevating the nation in all earthly 
prosperities? What were they not worth, to become heralds of 
salvation, and to bring this sinful world back to God and heaven? 
And now, the alabaster box is broken, the precious life is poured out, 
and nothing gained. 

Hark! out of those lips which we hoped to hear speak some day 
from this pulpit, there come in gentle, peaceful breathing, the words, 
" Until the day break" — not now — judge not our work, judge not our 
country's crisis, ask not what it means, do not question yet the 
wisdom of that which the loving kindness of God is arranging; wait 
till the shadows flee away. 

We must transport ourselves into the future, and look upon the 
gloom of these days of rebellion, as it will appear from the height to 
Avhich God, through all this discipline, is lifting this nation. Valley 
Forge does not look now as it did in 1778. ISTot one drop too much of 
blood was spilt, not one pang too sharp was endured, not one sacrifice 
too great was made for what the daybreak has revealed, and what two 
generations have rejoiced in. And when the present struggle shall 
be over, and it takes its place among the sternest and sublimest 
convulsions by Avhich the powers of darkness have ever tried to 
overthrow or hinder the establishment of the kingdom of righteous- 
ness and peace, the costly offerings which praying fathers and 
mothers have laid upon the altar, the setting up the walls in the blood 
of the first-born and fairest of our sons, all that has been done and 
suffered in the awful baptism of fire through which we are passing, 
it will not seem then to have been too much. 

If we cannot lift ourselves out of our calamity, to judge rightly 
of these events, and if we cannot wait for the daybreak; nay, if we 
doubt whether there is to be any daybreak, and say in our despair 
that the spheres have done revolving, and the sun has been taken 
down from the heavens, and the universe given over to darkness and 
eternal eclipse; if it seems to us that God has forgotten to be gracious, 



123 

and in wrath will not remember mercy, but will give us up to utter 
desolation, so that the shadows shall never flee away; then let me say 
that there is comfort in the thought, that these brave men have gone 
up where they stand nearer the Throne, and know better the pur- 
poses of Infinite Justice, and discern with a clearer and more radiant 
vision what is to be unrolled out of the dark future. 

To him, and to such as he, — the noble army of martyrs, whose 
coronation days we are celebrating — to him, the day has broken; and 
what daylight it is that fills those eyelids! 

" Blight ou the holy mountain round the throne, 

Briglit, where in borrowed light, the far stars shone, 

Regions on regions, far away they sliiue, 

'Tis light ineffable— 'tis liglit divine! 

Immortal light, and life forever more ! " 

We are left in no uncertainty. We know that before his eager 
vision the shadows have fled away. His dying words were : '"Tis 
all light ahead." He need not have spoken thus, to assure us, for 
it is all light behind. The radiance which now encompasses him is 
not so strange, for it flows back over his earthly life. In the brief 
period of twenty-two years which rounded his life last October, not 
many eventful scenes have transpired; and it is the tersest encomium 
upon the happiness of his life, that is marked by little of that falling 
out, which is the meaning of event. 

Born in Troy, New York, October 2d, 1840; his parents removed 
to this city, when he was a few months old, and he received Christian 
baptism, by the name of Edgar Marshall, in the Central Church, 
Winter Street. His life has been in Boston. He received his 
education in the Grammar and Latin Schools, from which last he 
passed in due order to Harvard College, and graduated in 1860. He 
is in the fullest and best sense a child of this city; and may God 
bless the city and the Commonwealth which breeds such sons! 

It had long been his joyful purpose to become a minister of the 
gospel; but his health broke down before the close of his college 
course, and without remaining till Commencement, he went abroad 
in the summer of 1860, and spent the autumn in travelling on foot 
through England and France, with the hope of regaining health. 
Not wholly succeeding, on returning he entered his father's counting 
house and engaged in active business for a while. The breaking out 
of the rebellion found him in this position. From the endearments 
of the happiest of homes he did not hesitate a moment to tear him- 
self away. Proposing to offer his whole life to his master in heaven, 
he came forward to do his bidding first as a private soldier in the 



124 

great army of freedom. He enlisted in the ranks of the 19th Regi- 
ment, when it was first formed and unknown to fame, and has shared 
its fortunes and contributed to its glory, in all the great achievements 
which make it so illustrious. Earning his promotion, step by step, 
he became Sergeant Major, and Second and finally, First Lieutenant, 
" And I never expect to go higher," he wrote home. Was it a 
presentiment that he was going so soon to the highest? 

When that gloriously tattered ensign of the old 19th, which looks 
as though it had been stripped, thi'ead by thread, to bind up the 
wounds of the gallant men who have carried it aloft, and followed it 
where the bullets whizzed loudest; when what there is left of battered 
staff and bent spear-head, and clotted ribbons, is held out by the 
historian, who shall come to make up the bead roll of the heroic sons 
of Massachusetts, among all the gallant dead, whote names will be 
blazoned on the escutcheon, that of Lieut. Newcomb will not stand 
in the lowest place. He was a soldier, like so many whom Massachu- 
setts has sent, against all the impulses of a tender and beautiful 
nature, in crucifixion of his peaceful and loving spirit, from the 
simple and strong impulses of christian duty. Putting aside his 
repugnance to that which might be deemed hardening in the life of 
camps, not knowing what the vindictive and belligerent quarrelsome- 
ness of the born tighter is, a man of womanly purity and refinement, 
blushing at the suggestion of anything that would pollute his virtue, 
as quickly as at anything that would stain his honor; with an in- 
stinctive and irrepressible sense of what right demanded, and with a 
conscientious and eager readiness to do her behests, he sprang forward 
with alacrity, as a child of his country, and of his God. He felt that 
the interest of both was involved, and that both alike bade him 
go. And oh! how many of these noblest of soldiers, specimen men, 
have gone where he has gone — onward and upward! 

It was a great change, to take musket and knapsack, for one 
whose life and love had been where his had been. His tastes were 
for books, he had a poetic temperament, which found delight in 
music; he was of a delicate, sensitive, self-contained nature, not 
readily making acquaintances; of singular modesty, genial and com- 
municative with those who liked inward thoughts, studying deeply 
the mysteries of the soul, and revolving the great questions of life and 
destiny. His face had not lost the red and white tints of beautiful 
boyhood when he went away, and the long, pensive eye-lashes hid a 
full, liquid, hazel eye. And his mind and heart were as unstained as 
his person. 



125 

I have spoken of these things, because many overlook how such 
quaUties knit into the most enduring, most manly, and most soldierly 
character. Instead of draAving back from the great privations which 
our noble troops have endured, he has never been wont to speak of 
them. We knew that there were great hardships, but his letters did 
not hint at it, save when his playful fancy was painting a humorous 
picture for his friends. He sometimes spoke of the hardships of the 
poor fellows around him; but he never grumbled about his own fare 
or condition; and, in fact, this patient, cheerful endurance kept him 
not only in health, but built up his youthful person into the stalwart, 
sinewy, muscular frame of an athletic man. 

I am not the one to speak of him as a soldier, you who led him 
on, and you who fought by his side will do that. * * * 

How it plants him forever in the hearts of men of Massachusetts, 
to know that he received his death wound holding aloft her colors! 

The glory of your regiment was all the glory he desired. It is 
beautiful to see how devotion to his colors sometimes pushes aside 
the extreme modesty which never tells his friends of anything which 
he has done, and compels him to speak of the regiment and what the 
great General thinks of it. * * * 

Through the fourteen battles and skirmishes of this heroic regi- 
ment, he had passed unscathed, and in the desperate, forlorn hope of 
memorable crossing. But in the fierce attacks of Saturday, cheering 
on the men, waving the flag, with bullets through his hat and 
blanket, and coat, and canteen, one tore through both legs, and 
brought him down; and after enduring excruciating pain till Saturday 
morning of the ensuing week, 

" God's fln,^er touched him and he slept." 

The foundation, not simply of his soldierly virtues, but of his 
whole beautiful manly character, was a strong, inwrought faith in the 
Lord Jesus Christ. At the age of eleven years he became a Christian, 
and he entered the full communion of the church in the place whei-e 
his dear body now reposes, when he was fourteen. And from his 
spiritual birthday until the last farewell to the men of his company, 
as one by one they came to his cot, last week Friday, and received 
his dying message to meet him in heaven, his piety has been growing 
brighter and brighter to the perfect day. With great breadth and 
depth of intelligent principle, there was a perennial out-gushing of 
his religious feelings. His christian character was developed with 
unusual symmetry, the solemnity of the great things being balanced 
by a winning cheerfulness and joyousness. I think his religious life 



126 

took no harm from all the temptations of the camp. Since he has 
gone, what we had not known has come to our knowledge, that he 
frequently preached, and held prayer meetings in camp, and performed 
such religious services, that some of the pious chaplains supposed he 
belonged to their number. When his time had come, Christ was all 
in all to him. To his brother officers, his fellow soldiers and friends, 
he earnestly commended his and their Redeemer. " It never seemed 
before to me, so great and noble a thing to die. I had hoped to 
preach the gospel, but I shall serve my country better in heaven." 

Yes! Will not the example of such a noble Christian and soldier, 
translated to heaven, do for the country what his sword and pen 
could not do, if he had lived? * * * 

With messages to all he loved, distributing his remembrances, 
asking that no words of praise be placed on his tombstone, but simply, 
"Lieutenant Edgar M. Newcomb, of the 19th Mass:" this young 
soldier, his life protracted with torture, with home and heaven rising 
before his vision, had his last thoughts on christian charities, and 
away there in sound of battle, devised his property equally to the 
Societies for Home and for Foreign Missions. 

His last letter was written Saturday morning, and was in his 
pocket when he fell, and was taken out and forwarded. And the last 
sentence he wrote is: " C. thinks I owe my past safety, to the prayers 
of my friends; I have often thought the same, and when I consider 
the temptations of this most trying life, my protection from sin is 
more marvelous than from wounds and death. Good bye." 
Until the day break and the shadows flee away! 
" How calm and blest, 

The dead now rest, 
Who ill the Lord departed ; 
All their works do follow them. 
Yea, the)' sleep glad-hearted. 
Oil ! Blessed Rock ! 
Soon <;rant Thy flock 
To see Thy Sabbath morniug ! 
Strife and pain will all be past 
When that day is dawuini;;." 

AVhen I had written thus, I learned that in asking that I would 
preach on this text, he added: " Let it be applied to the country and 
to myself." So, unconscious of his wishes, I had applied it For 
him, to you whose heads are bowed in sorrow, what words could 
come so full of comfort. Put this verse back into the chapter where 
he found it, and see what his happy soul was saying to you. The 
third verse of the chapter reads : 



127 

" 1 sat down under the shadow of my beloved with great delight, 
and his fruit was sweet to my taste, and his banner over me was love. 
His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace 
me." 

It was not his younger, it was his Elder Brother who held his 
dying head ! 

" My beloved is mine and I am his. He feedeth among the 
lillies: until the day break, and the shadows flee away." How near 
that is. How near to us the daybreak which shall herald us into the 
companionship of those who have gone before, — the glorious daybreak 
for us also! There is nothing possible to mourn over, save that such 
a life ended so suddenly. But how full the life was, how long, over- 
passing the life of men who exist doing nothing, or doing wrong, till 
three score and ten. He has done more than any of us, for he has 
done what God appointed him to do, and finished and reached home 
before the sun had climbed the zenith. 

Classmates and friends! and all who have led him and stood with 
him by that battle-rent ensign! Companions in arms, and ye who 
have come from the high seats of Magistracy, glad to do meet honor 
to this young citizen who had but just come of age, but whose heroic 
life has made the red blood mantle the cheeks of the oldest with 
pride: he gave himself, first to God, and then and thus to his country. 
Can any of you do better? Will you do as well! 

Father, mother, sister, brother, — Until the day break! 

After the exercise in the church, many of the congregation 
availed themselves of an opportunity to view tlie remains. The 
long funeral procession then slowly moved to Mount Auburn 
Cemetery, — a sacred enclosure where, during his college course 
Edgar had spent many i^leasant and profitable hours witli friends 
Avho still mourn his loss. The pall-bearers were Cajitain Cham- 
berlain, of the First Regiment, Mass. Vols.; Captain Hovey, of 
the 13th Regiment; Captain Carey, of the 13tli Regiment; Cap- 
tain Kent, of the 23d Regiment ; Lieutenant Russell, of the 12th 
Regiment ; Lieutenant Trull, of the 5th Battery. It was near 
sunset on that sad wintry day, when those who were nearest in 
kinship and friendship looked for the last time upon the \m\e but 
still beautiful face. The remains were dej)Osited in the family lot 
on Sedge Path, and we returned home with desolate hearts which 
were only relieved by looking forward to the promised daybreak. 



128 

After more than twenty years, some of us are still waiting amid 
the shadows of earth ; solaced by the precious hope that, in the 
good time appointed by our heavenly Father, the shadows will 
forever flee away. 

Lines composed in honor of Chaplain Fuller of the 16th 
Massachusetts are equally applicable to Lieut. Newcomb. 

" Servant of God, thy race is run, 
Life's toils aad trials o'er ; 
A crown of glory tliou has won, 
By Rappahannock's shore." 

A faithful drawing of Edgar's monument at Mount Auburn 

is represented on this page. 




" And yet I trust that all who weep, 

Somewhere, at last, will surely find 
ills rest, if through dark ways they keep 

The child-like faith, the prayerful mind ; 
And some far Christmas morn shall bring 

From human ills a sweet release 
To loviufr hearts, while ant^els sing,— 

' Peace and good will, good will and peace!' " 

At Park-street church, Boston, on either . side of the puli)it, 
are memorial tablets, bearing in red letters the names of deceased 



129 

soldiers who formerly belonged to the society. The first inscrip- 
tion on one of the tablets is as follows : 

Lieut. Edgar M. Newcomb, 

19th Mass. Vol. Reg't, 

Wounded at the Battle of Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 13, 

Died at Falmouth, Va., Dec. 20, 1862, Aged 22 tears. 

Above and below the tablet are other appropriate inscrip- 
tions : 

I. H. s. 

In Memoriam. 

dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. 

Near the entrance of the new Latin School building in 
Boston "stands a statue by Richard S. Greenough, a Latin School 
boy, which was erected by the graduates of the school to honor 
those who had honored her, and to commemorate those who had 
fallen in defending their country. This statue represents the 
alma mater of the school resting on a shield which bears the names 
of the dead, and extending a laurel crown to reward those who 
returned." The name of Lieut. Newcomb occupies a prominent 
position on the shield. His portrait may be seen in the exhibition 
hall of the Latin School. 

Harvard University has not forgotten to honor her noble sons 
who gave their lives in defence of the Union. The impressive 
architectural beauty of Memorial Hall attracts the attention of 
every visitor.' A solemn stillness pervades the transept containing 
the Avhite marble tablets in memory of departed heroes. The 
fallen patriots of the class of 1860 are immortalized on several of 
these tablets. At the top of one of them is this inscription : 

Edgar Marshall Newcomb, 
20 December, 1862, Fredericksburg. 

A more touching memorial may still be seen at Falmouth, 
Va. During the week of Edgar's intense agony at the Lacy 
House Hospital, a profuse hemorrhage took place, and a large 
pool of blood stained the floor. About fifteen years after the 
battle, Mr. Charles B. Newcomb again visited the Lacy House. 
Receiving permission to inspect the premises, he went directly to 
the room where his brother died, and once more gazed u|)on the 



130 

indelible blood-stain. Early in the present year, in reply to a 
note of inquiry, the following courteous letter was received : 

Chatham, Staffoud Co., Va. 

Jan. 9, 1883. 
Dear Sir: — 

Your letter addressed to Major J. Horace Lacy was handed 
me by that gentleman to reply, as my father occupies Chatham 
House, or Lacy House as it was called during the war. It was built 
by a lawyer, AVm. Henry Fitz Hugh, of London. The style of the 
building is exactly the same as that of Lord Chatham's in Stafford- 
shire, England. Therefore it derived its name, Chatham. The 
House has a romantic history, iu which George Washington, Thomas 
Jefferson, LaFayette, lijindolph and otliers figured conspicuously. 

I remember distinctly the occasion of Mr. Charles Newcomb's 
visit to our house about five years ago. He seemed to be familiar 
with the location of the room where his brother died. He went 
straight to it without being shown. It was an affecting scene to see 
him kneeling over his brother's blood, which still remains on the 
floor, and can never be erased. 

Yours very truly, 

H. Watson Shadle. 

George Washington and his widowed mother resided for a 
short time on Stafford Heights, near the site of the Lacy House, 
and afterwards in the city of Fredericksburg. 

The following additional tributes to Newcomb's excellent 
qualities have been cheerfully contributed by his companions in 
arms. They had abundant opportunity to form a correct estimate 
of his character, having associated with him constantly during the 
last fifteen months of his life, and under most trying circum- 
stances. 

From Col. Devereux: "As an officer, he was prompt, careful and 
zealous, kind to his men, but a good disciplinarian." 

From Col. Chadwick: "Newcomb was respected by officers and 
men, and many times since the war have I heard him spoken very 
highly and kindly of. He was thoroughly brave, but yet realized the 
danger he went into." 

From Capt. William A. Hill: " While I knew Edgar M. Newcomb 
and respected his many noble qualities, I have often felt that I knew 
him better dead than living. I can perhaps make myself better 



131 

understood in this connection, if I say tliat, altliough in years we were 
about equal, yet in maturity of thouglit and judgment he was the 
superior of us all; and it is now through the clearer vision of matured 
judgment that Ave see plainly and esteem more highly his virtues; 
and I have often told to my boy the story of his life as I knew it; of 
the heroic devotion to the cause in which we felt a common interest, 
of the quiet and unassuming manner which characterized his every 
act, of the gentlemanly and dignified bearing at all times, of the 
consistent christian life which he led, when the test was always the 
severest, and of that last gallant act of his life, when in the thickest 
of that terrible battle of Fredericksburg, when both colors went down 
in the hands of their wounded bearers, jS^ewcomb sprang and seized 
them, and with one in each hand went bravely forward to receive the 
death wounds which followed so swiftly his noble act. 

To a person of his exti'emely refined tastes the associations of 
camp life must have been anything but attractive. He enlisted as a 
private soldier, not because he was carried away by the excitement of 
the times, not because he longed for glory and fame, not because he 
felt himself fitted for such a life of hardship, exposure and danger; 
but he was found in the front rank with his face always to the enemy, 
because he firmly and conscientiously believed it to be his duty to do 
his part in the great struggle for the maintenance of our National 
Union. From my knowledge of the man I know that he faced the 
dread messenger even as he faced the trials and dangers of his soldier 
life, with a quiet, calm composure, and with brave though meek 
submission to the will of his Father. I have alluded to the fact of his 
having been a thoroughly consistent, conscientious christian, and 
would support that statement by saying that he made it a rule to read 
a chapter in his Bible every night on retiring." 

From Capt. J. G. B. Adams: "You cannot write in too high 
praise of the bravery of Lieut, Xewcomb. With no taste for army 
life he entered the army because duty called him, and he died the 
death of the true loyal soldier." 

From Capt. Stephen J. Kewman : "I regarded Lieut. Kewcomb 
as a brave patriot and a true christian soldier. Edgar used to read his 
Bible and pray when others were asleep. In fact he was a refined 
christian and a quiet gentleman, and had none of that which is known 
as religious gush. I liked him for his excellent manly qualities. He 
was a man of excellent parts." 

From Capt. J. P. lleynolds: " Newcomb was a good official, most 
aithful in the discharge of his duties (which he had an unusually 



132 

conscientious perception of) and entirely free from the rollicking 
disposition which characterizes so many in army life. He certainly 
was an exemplary young man, visiting the hospital and ministering 
to the physical wants of the sick, and ofliciating with the Chaplain in 
ministering to the spiritual wants of both the sick and well, upon his 
own resiionsibility, when off duty. He always had a wonderful 
regard for the wishes and feelings of others, regardless of himself — 
another trait so often wanting in life in the service." 

From Capt. James H. llice: I know he was a brave, conscientious, 
christian soldier, a thorough gentleman, consistent in everything." 

From Capt. W. F. Eice (now Q. M., 23d U. S. Infantry, at Fort 
Union, New Mexico): "He was a thorough christian in every respect, 
and a man for whom I think all who knew him had the highest 
regard." 

From Capt. (formerly Hospital Steward) W. E. Barrows: "He 
was a gentleman, a conscientious christian soldier, a bright and 
shining light in the regiment. In any community where an honest 
and upright life is esteemed, he would have been a marked man. 
But in the army, where temptations to let go some of the finer points 
of a christian life are great, and where it was sometimes difficult with 
most men to find communion with the Heavenly Father, it never 
seemed so with him. Like all the precious metals, the more he was 
rubbed the brighter he would shine. * * After he was wounded 
I took all the care, personally, I could find time to do." 

From Lieut. Wallace T. George: " I gladly give my testimony to 
the integrity and uprightness of Lieut. Newcomb's character, and his 
manly independence and personal courage." 

From Sergeant C. R. Hazen: "I can say with all sincerity that 
every one who knew Mr. ISTewcomb, knew his character to be of the 
sterling sort. His principle was strict integrity, and his devotion to 
religious duty was very remarkable. Nothing but circumstances 
entirely beyond his control could have the slightest influence in 
turning him from a strict performance of that duty. Every day he 
read his Bible, however arduous his military duties might be (and a 
soldier's duties in active service ax*e not mere child's play.) Many 
times I have seen him sit down in his tent for that purpose. He 
would perhaps read a verse or two befpre being observed by his 
companions, but the discovery would be no sooner made than he 
would be greeted with jeers, or made the butt of some joke. The 
poor boy would close his book and leave the tent, without a word of 
remonstrance, and seek some more retired spot and resume his read- 



133 

ing. I never heard him utter one harsh, hasty word. All was borne 
with quiet patience." 

From Charles A. Newhall, clerk of the Eegiraental Association: 
" I remember Lieut. Newcomb perfectly well as a good soldier and a 
sincere christian, — one who was always ready for duty, and who 
always had a kind word for every one.'' Dr J. W. Sawyer and 
several other members of the 19th Mass. have sent similar letters, 
praising Lieut. Newcomb in terms of the highest respect and admira- 
tion. 

It has been stated that Governor Andrew was present at the 
funeral. Shortly after, in his address to the Legislature, His Ex. 
cellency used the following language, evidently suggested by the 
discourse of Dr. Means: "The flag, whose standard-bearer, shot down 
in battle, tossed it from his dying hand, nerved by undying patriotism, 
has been caught by a comrade, who in turn has closed his eyes for the 
last time upon its starry folds, as another hero-martyr clasped the 
splintered staff, and rescued the symbol at once of country and of 
blood-bought fame. How can the fleeting words of human praise 
gild the record of their glory? From the din of battle they have 
passed to the peace of eternity." At the funeral of Lieut. Col. George 
E. Marshall, Gov. Bullock delivered an eloquent and touching address, 
from which a short paragraph is taken: "All generations shall com- 
memorate their valor and their patriotism. No ties of kindred can 
impose limitations upon the grief and gratitude in which they shall 
be held and treasured. The country shall be their monument." 

In the Book of Job are these words: " AVith clouds He covereth 
the light; and commandeth it not to shine by the cloud that cometh 
betwixt. * * And now men see not the bright light which is in 
the clouds: but the wind passeth, and cleanseth them." Already the 
shadows are beginning to " flee away," and in some degree we can 
understand why " that dark night of national disaster" was permitted 
at Fredericksburg. A complete and decisive Union victory might 
have led to premature negotiations for peace. Such action would 
probably have rendered inoperative the preliminary Proclamation of 
Emancipation. Gen. Lee was victorious, all the Southern States were 
waging war against the Federal Government on January 1. 18G3, and 
the fate of slavery was sealed. Thus the untold suffering at Fred- 
ericksburg contributed not a little toward securing the inevitable and 
speedy abolition of slavery. 

' ' They never fail 
Who die in a s^reat cause." 



134 

"They that die for a good cause are redeemed from death. 
Their names are gathered and garnered. Their memory is precious." 

Our little sketch is hastening to a close; not because there is 
nothing more to be said, but simply because space is limited. There 
is an eternity before us, where the record of faithful service wBl be 
open for inspection. Henceforth, let us think of our hero as one of 
the glorified saints of that Better Land; in which " There shall 

BE NO MORE DEATH, KEITHER SORROW, NOR CRYING, NEITHER 
SHALL THERE BE ANY MORE PAIN: FOR THE FORMER THINGS 
ARE PASSED AWAY." ' 




^^OV 27 1905 



